I went up to the deluxe shed by myself last weekend. We are pushing pretty hard to get a few things done before the snow flies. I was doing a lot of work under the house and had successfully ducked the cross beams for a couple of hours. Towards the end of the day (luckily!), I misjudged my duck and smashed my head right into the cross beam. I had a hat on which sort of protected my head, but I got a little messed up. If you are easily grossed out, do not continue reading!
I was not painting with red paint…
I was wearing work gloves to protect my dainty hands so they were pretty dirty as you might expect. When I hit, it dropped me right on the ground. It wasn’t a matter of teetering around and then sitting down stunned. It put me down hard. My hat came off and I knew I had done damage. My hat was off my head and I immediately put my nasty gloved hand on my head. Sure enough, I was bleeding and had just smashed dirt into the cut.
Glad I had big band-aids and candy!
I staggered over to the car where, luckily (once again) I had remembered the first aid kit. We keep a fairly well-stocked first-aid kit with us when we are working. Since we are working with power tools and low hanging beams, it only seems wise.
Yes, that is a piece of skin in my hat
Anyhow, I self-doctored and texted Emily… It sort of makes me laugh a little when I read it now. As I was texting, I went back to my hat. I found the chunk of skin that was ripped off still in the hat. I decided not to keep a souvenir. I think that was the right decision. I will always carry with me, though, the memory of the squeaking noise that skin being ripped off my head made. It was awful and that is how I knew for sure I had done damage. It looks ugly and gooey now but I think I will make it through ok. I definitely need a better story to explain the scar though…
Holy cats man, that is awful!! Strangely enough, you are the second person I know this week that was scalped. My SIL got her hair stuck in a drill press yesterday. She’s okay, but missing a big chunk of scalp and hair.
Not safe to be working like that by youself. Take a friend please!
But I don’t have any friends!
Working at construction alone is a dangerous job. Years ago when I started going bald, I was building an enclosed mini-deck that allowed me to make our kitchen bigger by placing the refrigerator outside the wall onto our enclosed porch. There was almost a 3 ft. difference between the levels of the two floors so the wall height was a bit high. I had decided that only making the structure 10 ft. tall would work out fine even though it wouldn’t reach the ceiling of the porch. It would save me money and less scrap lumber. While putting plywood over the frame I mistakenly placed my solid steel Estwing hammer on top of the wall for easy access to drive the first nail. Bent over to grab the bottom of the cut piece of plywood and lift it to position, shifted it a little and BAM. I found that a bare piece of skull makes an excellent target for a falling hammer. A 12 oz. hammer head falling 7 ft. acquires sufficient force to almost knock you out when hitting your bald spot. Six stitches later and the lesson learned. As the bald spot enlarged I too found out that a hat makes a poor substitute for the once natural protection and have suffered you type of injury many times. But you missed out on a perfect opportunity to have that piece of hide tanned and kept as a trophy.
Ouch… ouch… OUCH!!!
Just a flesh wound though… you’ll make it at least another year or more! Happy belated birthday 🙂
There is this great invention, it was developed some years ago, it’s loved by many, go buy a HARD HAT. DAD
Yea, what Grandma said! I concur!
Never once, while watching one of those old western movies with Indians that scalped some settler, did I ever hear a squeaking sound. But after reading this post, I’m glad that I’ve never heard that squeaking sound. I hope I never do!
Yes, yes, what Grandma said!
Ewwwww, Warren!!!!
You and Butch should get together, he makes no time for friends either.
I am pretty sure you can come up with a really wild story for your scar. The Boy has one on his chest that he tells everyone is a bullit wound!
I have 2 scars on my back that look like gunshots. Maybe this head thing is where I ran with the bulls in Spain!
Ah, Warren. First, you should know that I am genuinely happy to see when you’ve posted. Every time. Secondly, this post made me cringe. And giggle. I hope your fabulous, bald, squeaky head is recovering nicely.
Many of the reasons I enjoy your site are highlighted when I look at your tags in the clever widget below: thoughts, awesome, tinkering, fun, family, adventure, dang it, butterflies, nonsense… Sums it all up, I suppose.
Thanks Kate! I enjoy writing of course, but I especially enjoy reading what folks have to say too! Thanks so much for reading my nonsense!