To Tree or Not to Tree, Reprised

I was cleaning my hard drive today and found this from many years ago when I had an…accident.  It should speak for itself, but I really enjoyed writing it.  I edited only the obvious spelling errors.  It is otherwise left as I wrote it years ago, recent head injury and all.

Enjoy.

– Chris

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Well, I had a fun day yesterday.

It was a rather drizzly day, I had just arrived at my wife’s Grandmother’s house to help my Bro-in-law cut down a tree. We had everything we needed; two men, a ladder, some rope and a chainsaw. Already to go. We were only missing one thing.

Our BRAINS! What were we thinking?

To our credit, we did spend time trying to determine the best way to cut the tree down. We would begin by cutting the higher branches down and then work our way down so we could avoid the tree falling into the trailer or the power lines.

The first limb came down well. Right where we told it too.

The second limb, however, had mal intent. It struck back against it’s oppressors. Actually, it fell on my head from about 20-25′. Having just averted my eyes to clear sawdust (you will note that safety glasses were missing from the inventory list) and so was not directly in line with the bulk of the tree limb. I grazed by the tree and knocked away from the tree.

I felt like a familiar Led Zeppelin Song for a bit, but then I heard Ray screaming,” Get me down!” So of course, I ran to help. I am sure now it was somewhat of a stagger, however, as I was rather weak from the blow. I tried to free Ray from the tree where he had fallen, but the tree had snatched him by his ankle and help suspended upside down with a grip to rival the Hulk.

Or, very possibly, I was weak from the blow to the head. Ray again yelled, but this time a sensible order.

“Call 911!”

I decided to forgo the cell phone in my pocket and run (again, read stagger) to the house to use the phone in there. By the time I arrived, I could not quite remember what I was doing in the house and dizziness began to take a shot at control of my brain. I am happy to say that it failed and I remembered that I needed to call someone. Who though?

911! Yes! I remembered! I then began the search for the phone. I passed it 3 times, until Grandma said, “The phone is on the table!” Right, there it is.

Well I called 911, but things get fuzzy from here. They talked to me until they arrived so that I would stay awake. I realized that she was doing this, but it was annoying all he same. I felt like sleep would have been a good thing right then. The Paramedics that surrounded me did not feel that I was correct, as also kept me awake.

They asked me what day it was many times, oddly, and I began to wonder if they knew. They seemed satisfied with my answers, and proceeded to strap my head and body to a hard plastic board and then lift me up to take me to the ambulance.

I tried to entertain them during the ride with my rapier wit, and I got about a 50% laugh response. Now the most fun about the ride was having an IV put in while the ambulance was bump-bump-bumping along the road to the hospital. I think either the Governor needs to spend more of my tax money on roads, or the ambulance needs better shocks. Or perhaps both.

So, we arrived at the hospital and they asked me what day it was again, what happened, etc. I think they already knew and just wanted to know if I knew. All I knew was that I was rather uncomfortable and strapped to a plastic board.

During this time that I was strapped down and could only view the lights, someone that loved me came in and stood to my right (I could barely see them, but I could feel them), and looked at me. They made me feel that I would be ok. Oddly enough, no one that came to visit me had come in yet, they tell me. I thought it was Paula, but she said she that had come in until later.

Guardian angel? Random caring hospital worker? Who knows? Not me, that’s for sure.

I began to feel somewhat like Hannibal Lector, all strapped and reviewed, and I remember asking someone if there was any there named Clarice that I could talk to. That got a laugh, so I continued with the jokes. Everyone left at that point and I was visited by my family briefly before I was sent off to get a CAT scan.

The CAT scan was delivered by a guy that could have been George Carlin’s un-funny brother. He really didn’t know how to laugh, either. All business.

Ok now back to the room to wait for X-rays. My head strapped to a board was almost too much to bear at this time and the trip was a little less fun. I began hoping that soon the x-rays would come and go so that I could get of this board. I thought about crying, but they were a tough crowd and I don’t think it would have convinced them that they should let me go.

In the X-ray room, I met a pair of sadistic ladies who took great pleasure in moving the parts of me that were in pain to get pictures of the inside of them. I told them they should consider being interrogators, as I would have told them anything…

They left me for about 10-15 minutes on the board in a very dull room, still strapped to that board, until they determined that my neck was not broken and I could get off the board. The only thing I can say was Thank the Maker! That board sucked.

Of course, now that I could move my neck, I realized that it really hurt!!! I was contorted a few more times for more pictures and then wheeled back to my room. I wanted to walk, but I think they like pushing people around, as we traveled rather fast.

In case you were wondering, Ray was going through a rather more difficult time. All of his clothing had to be cut from him and he was subjected to a catheter. OW!!! I had one once before and I do not wish this pain on anyone. Well, ok, there are a few I might name, but that is another story.

Anyway, I was now in my room, sans board, and happily surrounded by family. I was release shortly after that by a real nice doctor, and I went to join Ray. He was about to be released as well, so we took clothes from whoever had spares and Ray got dressed.

From here we ended up and Denny’s. We ate, reviewed the event a few more times and then went home to go to bed.

The moral to this story is that you should not cut down trees. Just leave them be, so to speak.

Glad to still be with you,

Chris

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