Monday, July 21, 2014

Mr. Safety is Right





I had an accident involving a shovel and my head.

Here's how it went down.

I was working on installing some stepping stones using some large flat rocks harvested from our property.  This particular stone was about 4 inches thick and I would say weighed about 80 pounds.

I had dug out the area for the stone, and left my shovel as pictured below.

Re-enactment

 I lifted the stone and dropped it into place, but missed my mark a bit and it landed on the edge of the shovel end of the shovel causing the handle end to fly up with incredible speed and force stopping only when it hit my head.  WONK!  The power of the lever - like in a Trebuchet without the sling.  

Someone who knows Math and Physics could probably calculate the force generated here.




This photo was taken 2 days later after the swelling went down.


I was stunned!  I ran into the house and looked in the mirror to see a 5 x 5 centimeter egg growing larger by the second.  I put on an ice pack immediately and ran for the Arnica, all the while crying so hard I could barely see.  I was crying mostly because I was SO MAD at myself for letting such a stupid accident happen.  

And also I was SCARED.  I wondered if I was going to bleed into my brain - then I remembered the reason you have a skull is to protect the brain from just such injuries and the reason why you get a big egg is because the blood has no other direction to go except out.  But before I figured that all out, I was in the mirror checking my cranial nerves by sticking out my tongue and showing my teeth, and looking at my pupils and reciting to myself "On Old Olympus Towering Top a Finn and German Viewed Some Hops" - the mnemonic I learned in nursing school to remember the 12 cranial nerves...

Angie tried to comfort me with kisses while a sat on the stoop holding the ice pack on my head, still crying and trying to think if I should go to the hospital.

I did not lose consciousness and I am 99% sure I did not have a concussion.

Dean - AKA Mr Safety - is always cautioning me to be careful when working on our various projects.  When we are using the backhoe, I will sometimes be darting around the shovel and he's always yelling "GET AWAY FROM THE SHOVEL", and be careful this and be careful that, and keep your work area clear.  And I admit that I just don't think that way, and have poo-poo'ed his concerns from time to time.

But now I have to admit it:  Mr. Safety is right!

So after the initial swelling went down, most of the blood from the hematoma sunk down the side of my head and into my eye socket, and it is in the process of going through all the colors of the rainbow.







So here's the project.  The stones are in.  I will be planting some creeping thyme and other ground cover to fill in the dirt around and between the stones.




6 comments:

  1. I love being right. ;-)))

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment came from one of my FB friends who is an engineer:

    ....per your question of force, assuming:
    ---the blade of the shovel was 13 inches
    ---the rest of the shovel was 40 inches
    ---the rock did not fall far

    .....then the handle hit you in the face with roughly 246 pounds of force

    ReplyDelete
  3. The path looks great! I can picture it all grown in - lovely! I can also picture your poor eye back to normal too!

    ReplyDelete
  4. From Edna/Sunny -The path looks great, but yikes what you had to go thru to get it. A Robert Frost poem (Tho Objection to Being Stepped On) immediately came to my mind...
    At the end of the row
    I stepped on the toe
    Of an unemployed hoe.
    It rose in offense
    And struck me a blow
    In the seat of my sense
    It wasn't to blame
    But I called it a name.
    And I must say it dealt
    Me a blow that I felt
    Like malice prepense.
    You may call me a fool,
    But was there a rule
    The weapon should be
    Turned into a tool?
    And what do we see?
    The first tool I step on
    Turned into a weapon.

    ReplyDelete
  5. The Objection To Being Stepped On (Robert Frost from Edna/Sunny)
    At the end of the row I stepped on the toe
    Of an unemployed hoe.
    It rose in offense And struck me a blow
    In the seat of my sense.
    It wasn't to blame But I called it a name.
    And I must say it dealt Me a blow that I felt
    Like malice prepense.
    You may call me a fool, But was there a rule
    The weapon should be Turned into a tool?
    And what do we see? The first tool I step on
    Turned into a weapon.

    ReplyDelete