This last year, we decided that it was time to hide all of the farmyard clutter, and build a shop/hay shed. We finally decided in October to start. It was kind of on me, to get the ball rolling since I'm the "get the building permit, line up the lumber deliveries, get those crazy concrete guys :) lined out" gal. So, here it is, frost on the ground and we're finally deciding to dig a hole. Snow flies, so now we'll frame. More snow, time to sheet.
Long story longer, this building stuff can be scary. I've always worried when our contractor is working alone, but he's always been fine. He built an entire home without any serious injuries.
Two weeks ago, he walked in the back door. My back was to him as I sat at the table looking through the paper, ready to tell him of a great sale I just happened upon..."I fell", he said in a somewhat quiet, and pained voice. I turned to see him, my heart jumped to see blood running down both sides of his head. BUT, he was standing, and so, I thought, sit him down, check his wounds, and everything is going to be fine. I sat him down, and started to realize that it was probably worse than I was seeing. He started getting more pale and said he felt like he was going to pass out. I had Tyson come stand by him, while I got a wet rag to wipe and assess the damage. (My heart is racing now, just thinking of all this again.) All this time (the first several minutes) I was asking him questions, and he was not responding. He seemed to be unconscious and yet he was sitting, and his eyes were open. The kids got his pillow, and we awkwardly lowered him to the floor. We raised his feet. Then he started saying he knows he must have fallen, but doesn't remember any of it, or how he got into the house. He'd say he was OK, and then ask me what happened, or what we had talked about. I wasn't sure what I needed to do. So, after asking our kind neighbor to come assess the severity of his wounds with me, I determined I better get to the doctor. (His cut looked like merely a flesh wound at first, but after some gentle tugging, it was obvious that it went to the bone. Fun!)
Eleven staples later and a CT scan at the emergency room, they never said "he has a concussion" But it was apparent. I wasn't the smartest nurse in the world, wanting to believe his claims of, I'm really fine. But I'm surprised the doctors and nurses weren't more careful with him. He says most of his memories of that whole night are hazy.
We decided he was pushing a sheet up a ladder to hang high on the shop, and the ladder slid out from under him on the wet concrete under it, dropping him straight onto the concrete. It was probably a 14 foot drop, and the sheet probably landed on his head to cut him so severely. He had more aches and pains than he wanted to admit as the week progressed, and we found out he did break a rib.
The staples are now out, the rib is feeling better and most of the pains are gone.
We know too well of life altering injuries, and deaths that have happened in such instances. And I am so thankful that we are blessed to still have him here with us!
