The Break

In the course of re-drilling the holes through the 6×6 posts that will form the uprights of an outdoor chinup/gymnastic ring setup, the drill bit got bound up, and the drill spun, taking my right hand with it through about 135 degrees of clockwise rotation. Something in the hand did not approve of this course of  action, and went “pop.”

I dropped the drill, said, “Ow! Shit!” and went inside to get some ice and cold water on it to prevent swelling (I took off the titanium band on that ring  finger, just in case) and assess the damage.

At which point, shock kicked in, and I went from uncomfortable but functional to woozy to “Where is my alarm clock, if I’m just waking up from a restful night’s sleep, replete with prosaic dreams?” I apparently blacked out for ten or fifteen seconds, including a few seconds of seizure-like twitching. Fortunately, K caught me and lowered me to the floor, then called 911. Minor, if completely justified, freaking out ensued, as did treating me for shock and getting me an ice pack for the hand.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, a couple of EMTs arrived to give me the once-over. I was still on the floor, just in case, and had a couple towels over me because I was apparently cold and clammy, but otherwise awake, aware, and was offering to talk to the dispatcher.

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