One of the sad realities of life is that we all have experienced an injury of some sort while at work, be it from our own negligence, faults with the work environment, or a stroke of misfortune. Very few people I know have been spared, but by and large, the injuries have been fairly minor. To those unfortunate souls who have suffered significant injury or worse, my deepest sympathies.
My wife got one of those calls. Parents will understand what I mean ... the phone rings, the display says it's your son, the one that rarely calls. Answering the call with a cheery, "Hey bud! What's up?" The reply of, "I'm at the hospital" strikes a surge of adrenalin prompting an immediate elevation of heart rate. Thankfully, the rest of the conversation provides relief when it's revealed that our mechanic son had somehow found a way to punch himself in the face, splitting his own top lip. Now, while I can conjure up the scene ... worthy of at least a few thousand "hits" on YouTube if it were captured ... I am still curious how such a thing can happen. I guess this is something that is actually not uncommon, especially when working under a vehicle on a hoist, reefing on a stubborn rusty nut or bolt with some sort of tool. In the end, he drove himself to the hospital, and three stitches later, he's right back under the same car. Ladies and gentlemen, your employee of the month, Keaton Porter.
Some of you who have followed this Blog will be aware that I am an amateur shutterbug with an affinity for youth sports action, in particular. I have spent countless hours on the sidelines or in-goals of various playing surfaces recording the action, much to the pleasure of the participants when I share my handiwork. Occasionally, the action spills over the boundaries of the playing surface, and on one particular occasion, I bore the brunt of the sudden stop of a player's momentum, resulting in a "souvenir" to remind me of the collision. I was running my annual Sr Boy's Basketball tournament, the Hoopfest, and I was on the baseline of the court at the former Barrie Central. A hotly contested breakaway layup resulted in a mid-air collision that sent the shooter careening into me as I tried to capture the action, pushing the camera backwards into my face, leaving me with a nice little gash on my lower lip. While I didn't seek medical help ... although stitches could have been a thought ... the swollen bottom lip was an interesting tale to tell to my classes on the following Monday morning. The resulting scar visible in the mirror each time I look serves to remind me of the good times.
Now, not all injuries actually take place at work, but are directly linked to the task of having to work to support yourself. Not to be outdone by myself or her brother, my daughter had a pretty significant mishap a wee bit ago, while rushing to get herself ready to leave the house for work one morning. The "Reader's Digest" version is that she tripped coming down the stairs and somehow ended up using her own forehead to snap both of the bones in her left forearm. Imagining the fall is not difficult, especially if you've watched enough YouTube videos of daredevils wiping out, but imagine falling, struggling to get up, and watching your own forearm bend in the middle in a wholly unnatural manner. Yikes! Now add to that, having the wherewithal to manage a 911 call to your own home for help. The whole affair resulted in a significant surgery resulting in a two titanium plates and host of screws. The journey back to work was a task but I am happy to tell you that she has not had any lingering impairments. It makes for a great story to tell your kids, when you finally have some.
You'll be happy to know that I have procured a bubblewrap suit for Joyce when she goes to look after her little darlings ... she's living on borrowed time, you know. HaHa!
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