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Welp. No more steel bristle brushes for my grill after reading this

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I now know personally, 3 people that have fallen off ladders, simply cleaning roof gutters.
2 of them died from the fall. Other never recovered enough to go back to work as a state trooper.

I've also witnessed as a teenager working warehouse, a co-worker accidently drive a forklift off the open bay door of the loading dock. He fell out and the 10k lb lift promptly landed on him. Parts of him squirted distances that still boggle my head...

30 some odd yrs later, my neighbor died when his tractor flipped over (wheelie style) he fell out and it rolled over on him, when he tried to use it to pull out a stump in his field. smh.

Dont mess around with heights or heavy equipment, even if you believe you know what you're doing. If you're wrong, your probably dead wrong.

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Military softball is actually pretty serious business. We were once on a sucky FTX up in frozen Germany and the company softball team got to make a quick exit stage right and go play in big tournament that lasted for weeks

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I "froze" part of my diaphragm (or partially paralyzed, I guess) while ice climbing.

Foot blew, I caught myself with my arm fully extended above my head, felt a bit of a "tug" in my torso but ignored it and finished out the day. Ended up having some difficulty getting a full breath for a bit. Went to the doc and she ended up shoving what felt like her whole damn hand under my ribcage. That seemed to loosen things up, but it felt weird as hell. Ended up having to do some weird rehab exercises like trying to breathe with heavy books on my chest.

Felt weird. Do not recommend.

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I was involved with a fatality investigation aboard USS Carl Vinson.

The dough machines aboard ships are big. The dough bowl is about 40 gallons and is set in a cradle to swing down for loading and unloading, and up into the waiting dough hooks. The hooks are a pair of thick aluminum two tined forks about 16" apart. They counter rotate like you said when the operator presses two buttons about 48" apart - one on either side of the machine.

A co-worker had come into to the screaming he heard down the passageway to find one of the cooks being ripped apart by the blades. The guy had taken a broom handle and wedged it against one of the two safety switches so he could use the free hand to fold the dough quicker. The hooks caught the hand and pulled his arm and chest into the machine. In the 2-3 seconds that it took the big machine to spin down it removed most of the guys flesh and muscles in a patch about 16" square on half of his chest exposing bone. He ended up dying from blood loss and shock. It took about ten minutes to get him removed from the machine and into medical.

I was one of the lucky accident investigation officers. The photos were real bad.

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Damn! How could I forget my brother?!?

He was driving home from a bar in Maryland, drunk, and ran off the road straight into a whole line of battlefield fencing; the kind in Gettysburg with long, pointed rails laying on top of one another.

One came through the windshield, through the upper RHS of his chest/seat and into the rear passenger compartment while still sticking out the front. It was 10' long and 5 1/2" in diameter.

He was driven by ambulance all the way to York (the team at Gettysburg hospital all just shook their heads like, "Well, what do expect us to do?") and a Hindu surgeon saved his life.

It was the first time the rescue team in Gettysburg used their new "jaws of life" to enter a vehicle. They used a chainsaw to cut the rail on each end and loaded my still conscious brother into the ambulance still in the driver's seat. He had been pulling out chunks of lung when they arrived on-scene, not realizing the rail went the whole way through!

Thankfully, the rail acted like a giant cork and he really didn't start bleeding horribly until they pulled it out (the way it had gone in). A few years later, he submitted the story (and a pic of him on the operating table with the rail through him) to Guiness Book, but they rejected it as too gory.

He wanted to be listed as having had "The World's Largest Splinter"! LOL

Sorry. I thought I had the pic on my computer, but I can't find it. If I come across it, I'll post it up. (Lost him to pancreatic cancer a few years ago, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind.)

https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/111577/Rich_s__Splinter__jpeg-2495064.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/111577/Rich_s_Wreck_News_Story_jpg-2495102.JPG

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People don't realize the death zone in ladders is 12 to 15 leet off the ground.

Just enough time for your head to make rotation before it slams into the ground with your body on top of it.

Fuck ladders.

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A guy at work said one bristle in a brisket made it all the way to his stomach before poking out. Had to have surgery.

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I bled all over a library bathroom in Monterey, CA. Was looking for a book, and had to squat down to the bottom shelf. I lost my balance a little and started to sway backward, so I reached behind me to grab something for stability. I grabbed the metal shelf, but my thumb caught an edge and slid down, gouging a 1-inch long piece of flesh off it. It started bleeding like crazy, so I ran to the bathroom to get towels and stop the bleeding. After a couple minutes, that shit wouldn't stop so I decided to ask the librarian for a first aid kit. I paused before departing the bathroom to look back, and there was blood smeared all over the sink, splattered across walls, and smeared all over the floor. It looked like a crime scene. When I reached the front desk, the librarian nearly fainted seeing all the blood still running from my thumb and pooling on the counter. They didn't have a first aid kit, but she drove me to the clinic in her POV. I still have a scar there today.

Edit: Okay, you said SERIOUSLY injured. In hindsight this doesn't really count, but it is pretty weird.

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She had heart surgery years later, did not wait for the nurse to go to the bathroom and fell and hit her head and it bled internally for a few days. they had to install a drip in her skull.

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When I was in a motorized infantry company in the Danish army, one of the Unimog drivers accidentally ran himself over.  

On the Mog, you can set the throttle with a hand lever, so when we were driving in some.terrain (with some wheel.ruts) he set the gas to.keep the vehicle going at.relatively low speed, and got out and ran next too the truck to say hi to us in the back.

As he was running back to the cab  to get back in, he slipped and fell into the rut and went under the rear wheels.



He wasn't seriosuly injured, and it was fucking hilarious to have witnessed someone literally running themselves over with a truck.  

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Damn! How could I forget my brother?!?

He was driving home from a bar in Maryland, drunk, and ran off the road straight into a whole line of battlefield fencing; the kind in Gettysburg with long, pointed rails laying on top of one another.

One came through the windshield, through the upper RHS of his chest/seat and into the rear passenger compartment while still sticking out the front. It was 10' long and 5 1/2" in diameter.

He was driven by ambulance all the way to York (the team at Gettysburg hospital all just shook their heads like, "Well, what do expect us to do?") and a Hindu surgeon saved his life.

It was the first time the rescue team in Gettysburg used their new "jaws of life" to enter a vehicle. They used a chainsaw to cut the rail on each end and loaded my still conscious brother into the ambulance still in the driver's seat. He had been pulling out chunks of lung when they arrived on-scene, not realizing the rail went the whole way through!

Thankfully, the rail acted like a giant cork and he really didn't start bleeding horribly until they pulled it out (the way it had gone in). A few years later, he submitted the story (and a pic of him on the operating table with the rail through him) to Guiness Book, but they rejected it as too gory.

He wanted to be listed as having had "The World's Largest Splinter"! LOL

Sorry. I thought I had the pic on my computer, but I can't find it. If I come across it, I'll post it up. (Lost him to pancreatic cancer a few years ago, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind.)

https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/111577/Rich_s__Splinter__jpeg-2495064.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/111577/Rich_s_Wreck_News_Story_jpg-2495102.JPG

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Welp. No more steel bristle brushes for my grill after reading this

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Couple of months ago a good buddy of mine was changing the bearing on his boat trailer. Gave the tire one final spin and caught his wrist between the fender and spinning tire. He starts hollaring, I run over and can see the bones in his arm just above his wrist and blood squirting really good. I grab a tourniquet that I keep in my truck and put it on him and get the squirting to stop. I told him we need to call 911 and he insists on not doing that and going to a walk in clinic (he's 64 and pretty much broke, said he couldn't afford to), I told him I'd pay for it and he doesn't really have a choice. Gets an ambulance ride to the hospital, he said the had to reattach the veins or arteries (He couldn't remember)  and stitch him back up. Docs at the hospital said it was a good thing he had a tourniquet close. I'm happy to help him pay his hospital bill

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Couple of months ago a good buddy of mine was changing the bearing on his boat trailer. Gave the tire one final spin and caught his wrist between the fender and spinning tire. He starts hollaring, I run over and can see the bones in his arm just above his wrist and blood squirting really good. I grab a tourniquet that I keep in my truck and put it on him and get the squirting to stop. I told him we need to call 911 and he insists on not doing that and going to a walk in clinic (he's 64 and pretty much broke, said he couldn't afford to), I told him I'd pay for it and he doesn't really have a choice. Gets an ambulance ride to the hospital, he said the had to reattach the veins or arteries (He couldn't remember)  and stitch him back up. Docs at the hospital said it was a good thing he had a tourniquet close. I'm happy to help him pay his hospital bill

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Friend of mine had a mowing business on the side about 10 years ago.  He was riding his zero turn under some low trees and a branch scratched his head... not bad, no stitches. Repercussions from that scratch was an unidentifiable fungal infection that resulted in 20% of his skull being removed and 3 years of rehabilitation.

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While we hunting coyotes, a friend was climbing a barbed wire fence and somehow lost control and fell on a t-post. The t-post went up his armpit barely missing an artery, I believe. Lots of blood and a gnarly wound.

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Stepped over a CAUTION tape barricade, swinging my arm to counterbalance, and stabbed myself in the foot with the angle iron I was carrying. Hit just above the steel toe cap and broke my pinky toe AGAIN.

Buddy was manually driving a ground rod with a TPost driver. Went too high and slammed his hand down onto the rod instead of the driver. Through and through.

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After my freshman year of college, I went back home for the summer.
After a year of drinking beer, fishing, hiking and doing just about everything but school, I was pretty much broke. Since I wanted to continue drinking beer, fishing, hiking, etc. I figured I needed a job.
One of my buddies was managing a Denny's at night and told me all about the crazy tips the bar crowd would leave.  I thought it sounded like a pretty good idea since I could work at night and have days free to do as I pleased.
It turned out to actually be kind of a fun gig. It was kind of a trashier mishmash of "Waiting," "Clerks," and "The Slamming Salmon."
Late nights were awesome. We got the bar crowd looking to sober up and the late night regulars with all their ridiculous stories.
Every once in a while, people would bring their drama with them from whatever bar or club they were at and brief shouting matches and scuffles were pretty common.
One night, I was dropping off an order to one of our lonely regulars in the corner booth when two "600 Pound Life" candidates started talking shit to each other at the booths on either side of him.
It wasn't all that unusual, so late-night-loner-Larry chuckled and told me it looked like another show was brewing.
About the time I got back to the counter, I heard Titans colliding behind me and the sound of two brutes fencing with cured hams.
I turned and saw two of the biggest women I'd ever laid eyes on going at it. The corpulent monstrosity of a Staypuft walrus was pulling gobs of weave out of the mastodon's hair and the wooly mammoth was using her talons to scoop the fromunda from the aquatic mammal's facial folds. Meanwhile, the surrounding tables were being thrown asunder, sending sticky spatterings of syrup and jelly on and around all the nearby patrons.
Now, I don't mean to brag or nothing, but I'm pretty goddamn big and strong; I knew that I was going to be the only one capable of separating the gargantuan women and breaking up the maelstrom. I propelled all 5'7", 175lbs of well-caffeinated college kid into the midst of the adipose-altercation. I had my size, strength, and confidence going for me, I knew I'd have it sorted with a quickness: I was wrong.
I was consumed into the fracas and learned what it felt like to become part of an unholy Cronenberg-esque abomination. I could not disengage, the roiling mass of humanity would not let me go. I was getting punched, scratched, pounded, sandwiched; I bought the ticket now I had to take the ride. Some eternity later, the gladiatrices ended their rampage and left in their wake a scene of utter bedlam with a thoroughly defeated Dylan at the nucleus of their wanton destruction.
When the dust had settled, it fell on us lowly employees to pick up the remnants of our once proud dining establishment. Somewhere between dislodging part of a weave from a ceiling fan and replacing loner-Larry's Moons Over My Hammy due to a fake fingernail finding its way onto his dinner, I realized that I had some red liquid all down the front of me. At first I hoped it was jelly or some kind of syrup, but the consistency was wrong. I was then horrified at the prospect that one of the beasts and spilled its gore on me. After removing my uniform shirt, what had happened became all too clear. I had claw marks from under my left armpit, up to my right shoulder and, in the middle of the marks where a fleshy nub had once resided, was a bloody nipple root, only hinting at my left pec's former glory.

Copied from my post in the last thread we did like this

The corpulent monstrosity of a Staypuft walrus was pulling gobs of weave out of the mastodon's hair and the wooly mammoth was using her talons to scoop the fromunda from the aquatic mammal's facial fold