hey dude: I read your previous post about your motorcycle accident, that must have been a painful ordeal with your hand! I imagine your hand must still hurt some!

keep on playing that beautiful music...........I'm glad you rediscovered the piano, what a great way to recover the strength of your hand.
music is a great healer , I find music heals me of most of my emotional and physical pain.

Whoa, S_H... Scary stuff. Glad you made it, bro.

Peyton, somehow I missed your bowling ball and rocket stories (perhaps too distracted by the near brushes with death of Rosso, kokomo61, and super-hunky. Yikes! I'm STILL shuddering over all those stories). Those were hilarious! I would have loved to see the bowling ball incident. And was the rocket thing pre- or post-9/11? I don't think you'd be wanting to pull that stunt these days, or risk being swept away to Guatanomo, never to be seen again.

This one time, at Band Camp...


Mel

Haha... My thoughts exactly! LOL

We are talking way way way pre 9/11. Around 1967. I was 12.

Wow - I'm amazed after reading all these stories!

I suppose my worst injury happened on New Years Eve 2002/03. I was through in Edinburgh at a party with my mates. Just before midnight, four of us throught it would be a great idea to climb Arthur's Seat (a steep hill) to watch some fireworks.

Everything was going great until the descent. Near the bottom, I thought it would be really funny to roll to the bottom of the hill.(You need to understand that I had been drinking heavily since 12noon that afternoon)

Unfortunately I forgot that there was a 12 foot ledge at the bottom, and I sailed into fresh air, and came down onto a road.

After a few mintues, I staggered to my feet and proceeded to walk back to the flat with the others. I knew my arm was injured, but I wasnt sure how serious. We walked to the local hospital, and my friend said "lets see your elbow". I pulled up my sleeve, and saw this...

http://www.euan1234.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/03ny6.jpg

The end result was three days of morphine heaven, two months with the cast, four months of a wired-up elbow, and two operations. I struggle with racket sports as I can't straighten my arm quite fully, but I can still hit a decent golf shot.

The surgeon said it was the worst elbow injury he had ever treated (severe communited fracture).

p.s. I was sporting my Oakland Raiders jersey in the photo!

OMG, Euan, what a picture! [grows pale and has sympathetic elbow pains]. I gotta ask--was there snow on this hill, or did you decide to roll over rocks, brambles, etc?

Holy crap, Euan!! That looks GNARLEY!!!!! Nice job!!

When I was a lad of 16, I was at a youth function being held at a local church. I had arrived early, so I walked around the grounds. The back portion of the grounds bordered a horse pasture. There was a mare near the fence, grazing. I went over and began feeding her handfuls of grass. I began climbing the fence, still feeding her bits of grass. When I got to the top of the fence, I leapt onto her back, seized fistfuls of her mane, and yelled, "C'mon, B____H!! LET'S RIDE!!!!" Well, it turns out that she was an unbroken horse. She was not best pleased at the wild demon that had suddenly lighted on her back and yanked the hair on her neck, so she did everything she could to throw me. It was quite the wild ride, and if it would have been a rodeo, I would have taken first prize!

Finally, I decided that I'd had enough, so I began sliding off of her flank, when she stopped and heaved her hindquarters into the air. I went up, up, up, and then down, down, down, and put out my left arm to break my fall. I heard my wrist snap like a dry branch. "POW!!" Like the sound of a knuckle popping, magnified by a hundred.

My parents were quite agitated with me, for that. I ended up in a cast from my hand to my shoulder, for eleven weeks, and then a forearm cast for five more. Man, that sucked... LOL

Frank - you really do have the coolest stories! Although they were painful at the time, they do make a good read now

Monica - no snow, brambles etc. Just two complete rolls, then off the ledge. I just can't believe that I managed to land on my elbow, rather than head/back etc.

I had never climbed that hill before, and after visiting it in daylight - I would even attempt it now. Lots of rocky drops. Amazing that we didnt get into bother (climbing in pitch dark whilst intoxicated)
And the best bit was that because I was so drunk - I didn't feel the slightest bit of pain!

Peyton asks if I had any forewarning of my heart attack.

The answer is no. It was out of the blue, except as I stated about being on Zocor.

However, in retrospect there have been several things that may have been signals that warranted attention. About 10 years ago I had a chest pain even worse then with the heart attack while driving home after a big argument at work, but I went to the doctor, had a stress test, and all appeared fine. Also, a few weeks before the attack, I was sitting in church and all of a sudden my throat got very dry and my jaw started aching. I simply got up and drank some water and all seemed well. A thalliun stress test at any time in the last ten or so years would probably have revealed the blockage. I've also been told that if you are going to have a heart attack, the earlier in life you have it, the better the recovery and prognosis. But, let's say I had the test 15 years ago and was diagnosed with the blockage. What if the technology was not what it is today with the stints and drugs we have access to? Anyway, I am lucky.

Thanks for the comments.

Haha....

Stupid drunk stories... Oh god...

Okay: I was fifteen or sixteen, and a couple of my buddies had raided someone's liquor cabinet, and of all things, had come up with two bottles of 90-proof peppermint schnaaps. We drove down to the lake, lit a campfire, and began drinking. Well, after we were pretty well tanked, my buddy Richard nods to a motorhome parked on the sand close by, and says, "Hey, I wonder what he's got in that ice chest?" So, he and I sneak over like ninjas, as quietly as only two drunken teenagers can, and took the ice chest back to our site. We opened it: Glory be!! Three "Old Milwaukee" beers!! Huzzah!!!!!

We put the beers in the bed of the truck, and we began taking the ice chest back, when we heard the screen door of the motorhome open and the sound of a shotgun jacking a round into the chamber. A mean old man's voice growled, "Whatcha' got there, boys?!" S***!!!!

We dropped the ice chest and took off in a panicked run. We crested part of the mountain, then fell down the sheer face of the cut-out where the four-lane highway was, rolled, stumbled, and ran over the highway, and began running up the side of the mountain on the other side. I don't remember much, at this point. (Well, except for hanging out over a boulder and having a Technicolor yawn over the side, and watching it go all the way to the bottom, which seemed impossibly far below.)

Our buddy, Eddie, pulled up in his car and Richard hauled me down the mountain and piled me into the car. Eddie was yelling, "If you puke in my car, I'm going to kill you!" so we're blasting down the highway and I've got my head hanging out the window like a dog, terrified of blowing chunks inside of Eddie's car.

I don't think anyone was injured.... (Although I couldn't stand the taste of ANYTHING peppermint for a week after. I brushed my teeth without toothpaste, even!)

Since we're on the topic of substances...

When I was a wee lad, around the age of ten, one of my buddies was named Brett. Brett was a dirty, scuzzy little kid that reminded people of the character, Pigpen, from the cartoon strip, "Peanuts." His mother ran a convenience store and the local pub.

One day, he comes to school, pleased that he'd scored two pouches of Redman chewing tobacco. We started chewing that stuff, and chewed it all morning, but we couldn't spit the juice or else people would know that we were chewing tobacco. With no other alternative, we swallowed the juice.

Around about lunchtime, I got sick. It was epic. When I say I got sick, trust me: This is understatement of the year! Holy God, was I sick!! I was like "The Incredible Human (puke) Geyser"!

So, I went to the front office, and they called my mother to take me home. (Of course I didn't tell anyone WHY I was sick!)

My mother drops me off at home and props me up in bed with a toy catalog, and then returns to work. I'm flipping through the toys and come across the Star Wars action figures. "Hrmmm... Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, C3PO... Chewbacca!!!!!" "BLEARRRRRRGH!!!!!!" and I was sick all over again...

Hahahaha...

hahaha

So glad you made it... That must have been terrifying. I don't recommend peppermint schnaaps or Redman chewing tobacco as possible treatments, by the way.

No...17 year old Bowmore scotch should do the trick.

Most definitely. Lagavulin or Glenfiddich is nice, too.

Here's my attempt to keep pace with Frank W - In Feb 2001 I also had bad indegestion, took Pepcid and waited 2 hours - no improvement - just had meds for diabetes changed so I thought I was having a bad reaction so went to Urgent Care and 4 hours later I was on a table with my chest opened up - 1 at 100% 1 at 90% and one at 75% - if not for the fear of bad reaction to meds, I know to this day I would not have gone in. Anyway, thats not the story - while in the hosp recovering, my wife called our son and he came up to see me. He was coming into town and talking with my wife on directions. The hospital was not that easy to find, so she told him to take exit 281, turn right at the light and pull into the parking lot on the right where she would meet him to guide him in. He followed her instructions to the letter and found himself in the parking lot for a funeral home, and damned near had a heart attack himself. Donna never realized just what the business was that was attached to the parking lot. Needless to say, he and I will not let her forget it.

Haha! Oh man... Too funny!

I was on a business trip to Omaha, Nebraska. I missed a turn, and the next sign I saw read, "Pavement Ends." Well, I reasoned that perhaps the place I was looking for, was located a little further out, so I kept going. The pavement ended. I kept on going and found myself in the middle of at least 200 acres of corn. I stopped because I'd passed a hand-painted plywood sign hanging on a fence that read, "Used cows for sale." I turned around and got the hell outta' there!

But just think what you could have done with a used cow! (Compared to a new one anyway). :p

I don't know... Way out there in the middle of 200 acres of corn, I imagine that everything possible to do to a cow has already been done. *shudder*

Is it me, or is it hot in here.... whew... swooning....

Awwwww - that sure wasn't a pretty picture, Euan - ewwwwww - ouch! I can imagine it was quite painful to the touch!

Nice jersey, though!

Euan, you'll be glad to hear that your story performed a valuable public health lesson. I just showed my 10-year old daughter the picture of your elbow and told her how you got it that way. She swore never to touch a drop of alcohol until she was 21.

A ski story (and no serious injury!). I'm a back country telemark skier and I was climbing in the mountains up around Jay Vermont with friends. We were skinning up and had fairly large heavy packs. At the top one friend headed down a very narrow chute to get to some very sweet powder below. The chute he had picked had a tree growing right in the middle and the only way to get down was to straight line on either side...there was no room for a turn. Well foolishly I decided to do one turn just before the tree and ended up clipping the rocks and falling. The chute was so steep that I actually went head first into the branches. I ended up...if you can picture this, hanging by my skis upside down from the branch swinging with my head about three feet from the snow. My pack was hanging down by my head and all my stuff (climbing skins, thermos, food, clothing) started falling out. The guys I was skiing with had already gone ahead and were out of sight in the woods so I was alone to contemplate my awkward situation. I probably hung there for about five minutes (it seemed like an hour) before I managed to break enough of the branch to get one ski undone and get my self down. At the time all I could think of was how lucky I was that no one was there to take a picture. Now I kind of wish I had one. :p

Peyton - call is hoaky if you will - but someone up their was watching you, my friend.... Oh how lucky it wasn't worse. Next time - get pic!

LMAO! My eyes are watered down good for all the tears that came after laughing so hard...
That must be why some people get teary eyed and say they are "only tears of joy"

Some really great stories!

A piano $85,000.00
Sheet music $3.00
Stories told by members in the pinao world forums is entertainment thats priceless..

Some of ya'll need to take it easy if you plan to live a long life... Most of you know that I am sure but I just had to comment...

I will have to share some stories later but keep em coming..

LMAO, Peyton! That is hilarious...

Thanks, tolovemoon! I still want to skydive and hang-glide.

Okay: The word for today, ladies & gentlemen, is "Percussive Vascectomy."

This occurs when your well-meaning parents buy you a bicycle for Christmas that you will "grow into." The only problem is that it's one of those big ol' beach cruiser ten-speeds and you can only touch the ground with your tiptoes. You go riding around, but everytime you hit the brakes, you slip off of that shiny new leather seat and bang your "nacho" on the crossbar. In fact, in a single day of riding around, you've done this so many times, that you're certain that you will never be able to have children.

Eh... Not that I'm speaking from personal experience or anything...

As a teenager, I once rode a borrowed boy's bike that was too big for me, and I forgot about it when I hopped down off the seat. The cross-bar was at a height about two inches higher than a very sensitive portion of my anatomy. OUCH!! I may be one of the only women in the world who lost her virginity on a bicycle...