a brush with death

Wyrmypops

New member
Been rather lucky. Only admitted to hospital a couple of times in my life. Once when a light bulb exploded near my face and a sliver of glass scraped the eye. Some children just have to learn the hard way what happens when you drip cold water onto a hot bulb.
The other time was getting my nose reset after being laid into by four lads. Worst thing about all that was police turning up just as my adreneline kicked in - and my glasses had been broken, so I spend months looking pretentious in my prescripton sunglasses till I could afford the replacements.

As I recall I didn't visit hospital the time I electrocuted myself to watch Quincy.
As a punishment my mum had removed the plug from the TV, but I'd just learnt how to wire one up in school and was keen the flaunt my skills to my little brother. I sorted it out, but couldn't find the backing. I can't have paid much attention at school so I didn't see anything wrong in plugging it in without it, while I was holding metal parts.
The resultant shock sent me across the room, too stunned to speak let alone move. My brother and the TV were fine though, and my mishap was forgotten as Quincy started. I think it was the episode where he examined a body and suspected it wasn't a suicide, or something.
 

jahminis

New member
crazy times...

glad to hear you made it through your self-inflicted gas attack, Funnymouth...

i have had quite a few close calls over the years, especially as a traveller through warzones...
watching firefights break out in the streets of Beirut, Lebanon (who knew that the concussions from little grenades could be so powerful)...
having kids with AK's shoot at me in Mogadishu, Somalia (what a good idea it was to visit my ex's family!!!)...

growing up in L.A., we had some drive-bys to deal with...
i took some shotgun pellets in the shoulder while drinkin' beer in the wrong park one night, when i was 18...
felt like someone hit me with a bat, and spun me around...
went home, and dug out the pellets like Rambo...
got a couple nice scars from that one...

the closest i came to being killed by someone was in Belgium of all places...
a couple of Morrocans picked me up hitchhiking...
we were heading south in the middle of winter...
everything was going cool, and we were chatting away...

next thing i know, these guy turn off the highway onto a 60 foot bridge over a swamp...
i asked where they were going, and the driver stopped the car, and tried to reach back and grab my beard...
i dodged him, and yelled WTF!?!?!?

they both started yelling, "this is religious" over and over...
turns out they thought i was Jewish, and wanted to chuck me off the bridge...
for the next few minutes i fought these two guys on the bridge, and it was the first time that i had looked cold-blooded murder in the eyes from so close...

luckily, i had a 4 foot skateboard that evened up the odds a little...
we battled, and all sustained injuries...
after a few minutes of fighting, both guys had split heads, so they jumped in the car and sped off, leaving me injured in the Ardeinne on a freezing January night...

i crawled back to the road, and slept off my injuries under a bridge for a couple days...
by the time i got back on my feet, i looked like hell...
my neck was swollen like a cobra on both sides from taking their punches (at least i protected my face)...
i had a softball sized lump on my shin from taking their kicks, and a twisted ankle from when one of the guys grabbed me from behind by my hair, and took me down while i was fighting his buddy...

when i look back, all i can really remember is the look in their eyes as they yelled, "this is religious" the whole time...
i'm not even Jewish!!!

the most recent big brush with death was surfing in Costa Rica a few years back...
it was my birthday, and when we got to the beach, 7 miles down a little dirt road at the far end of nowhere, the waves were rollin' in at 15-20 feet...

we had a great mornin' of surf, and then the biggest wave of the day rolled in...
i dropped in, and saw all my friend paddling to get over it, and hooting at me 'cause it was such an awesome wave...
as i made my turn at the bottom, i was out a bit too wide, and the next thing i know the whole wave hits me one the shoulder with so much force, it fractures my Humurus(sp?)...

i felt it crack, and just remember, in that first split second, saying to myself, "you have got to be kidding me", and then the wave hit me like a freight train...
so i'm underwater spinning and tumbling, telling myself not to pass out from the pain, totally lost in the "washing machine"...

as i'm tumbling around, trying to figure out which way is up, my chest slams into the ocean floor (just low enough that i didn't break my neck), and a huge pressure behind me pushes my heels up to touch the top of my head...
as i'm folded in half backwards, i feel my spine crack...
i remember saying in my head, "oh, now you have really got to be freaking kidding me"...

so i'm still rolling and tumbling, and telling myself not to pass out...
when i finally pop back up, i can't move my arm, and we are in the middle of nowhere...
so i have to paddle back out with one arm, feeling like a sea turtle who had a bad run in with a shark, and lost a flipper...
i get back out past the huge waves, and tell my buddy that i'm hurt bad...
he looks at me and goes, "yeah, you're in shock...you look as white as a sheet"...
i had a 3 month tropical tan!!!...

i could still move my legs, so i wasn't too worried...
i wish i could say that everything was going numb, as seems to happen with bad injuries, but no...
i was hurting bad...
a blinding white pain...
i took a wave in, and smoked a big joint to dull the pain, and watched the rest of the boys surf for another hour before we got picked up...
luckily the cracks in my spine and arm where vertical, so everything was intact...
layin' in bed the next few days was kickin' my butt so bad that i was back in the water a few days later, just floatin' around with my flippers on...
gravity was kickin' my butt on land, but the ocean welcomed me back, and eased my pain...

it was a month before i was healed enough to actually lift my arm and put on a t-shirt...
luckily you don't much clothes in the tropics...
the arm healed well, but the back still loves to act up after any hard work or heavy lifting...
i'm just glad i didn't pass out underwater, 'cause that would have been the end...

here's to enjoying life to the fullest, every chance you get...

cheers
jah
 

jahminis

New member
yeah, i've lived a pretty wild life...
crazy situation have become "just another day in the life" by now...
i just don't want to wake up at 60, and wish i had lived an adventurous life...

cheers
jah
 

IdofEntity

New member
Just remember to actually MAKE it to 60 or you will never know what you might have wished for anyway. ;)

Are you kidding me? Most of us should just thank our lucky stars we've made it past Logan's run. Or in our instances we might instead refer to it as Murphy's run?
 

Sand Rat

New member
My first night in Iraq in June of 04 -

Was asleep, when my body awoke me with a desire to visit the porta john. Was debating the merits of a few more minutes of sleep vs going outside to pee, when a 120 mm rocket slammed into the back of a connex box about 80 feet away. Needless to say, the trip was made to the porta john.:smirk:
 
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