Wednesday, April 24, 2024

From the Ridge: Focus on the job in hand

Avatar photo
“You can’t write about that,” Jane said. “Well, I have to write about something. I’m right on deadline and coming up to quarter of a century without ever missing filing a weekly column is probably my best achievement. Mind you that’s measured against a lot of modest feats.” But she made a good point. I didn’t want to get in trouble with the regulators.
Reading Time: 3 minutes

“You can’t write about that,” Jane said.

“Well, I have to write about something. I’m right on deadline and coming up to quarter of a century without ever missing filing a weekly column is probably my best achievement. Mind you that’s measured against a lot of modest feats.”

But she made a good point. I didn’t want to get in trouble with the regulators.

So, I’ve had a look at the reporting procedure and my obligations with Worksafe and the tale I’m about to recount doesn’t come under the ‘serious harm’ definition. 

If I do run into any strife, as I know from previous writing experience that its surprising who does read this epistle, perhaps my salutary lesson might at least help someone else.

Forty years farming and I’ve never had an accident that has stopped me from working. I’ve probably only had three or four sick days to boot.

But yesterday my luck ran out.

I was in the hills on my two-wheeler when five fallow deer ran across in front of me and easily leapt the fence into my forestry block. They joined another five and were running through my two-year-old trees that had replaced my recent harvest.

I’d just seen a bit of damage on the trees so wasn’t surprised about deer being about but ten in a mob was a lot and a concern.

I was keeping an eye on their progress as decided I needed to get some hunters up here forthwith and some intel would be handy.

A moment’s inattention is all any accident needs.

Usually a cautious rider, I didn’t see the hole and next thing I was on the ground.

Fortunately I was wearing a helmet, as the blow was enough to pop it off.

I wasn’t going fast – maybe only 5km an hour – as the bike lay where it fell as did I.

But the left shoulder was bloody sore.

I got up but was unwilling to try it out as the graunching was enough to tell me this wasn’t good.

My personal locator beacon is in the front of the four-wheeler, but I have been intending to wear it on my belt. For three years.

I almost always carry my cell phone, but it was on charge at home.

Surprisingly, I was able to lift the two-wheeler from its downhill position with the one arm and because it has electronic ignition, was able to easily start it and as the throttle is on the right.

I rode it carefully home down the lane where all the gates were open.

Jane was still in town coaching tennis, so I rang the medical centre in Waipukurau.

“Can you drive?” asked the lady.

A bit of shock meant I wasn’t feeling a hundy but figured I’d quietly get myself there with my automatic, rather than troubling an ambulance.

The real pain hit while sitting in the waiting room and I didn’t even care I was whimpering like a hurt dog in front of the other startled patients.

I wasn’t even troubled while they cut off my good work jersey and shirt, but drew the line at my favourite Matinee Idle tee shirt.

The doctor and the Xray confirmed a badly broken collarbone.

Never having had anything more than Voltaren and Nurofen, I got a little excited when Andy my GP said he was going to prescribe three different drugs. At last, in my sixties, I was going to sample some of the decent stuff.

I told him I was a little underwhelmed when it turned out to be Voltaren, the one to protect your stomach from Voltaren, and paracetamol. Para bloody cetamole when I was thinking morphine or tramadol or who knows what.

However, its okay most of the time.

Now my life has dramatically narrowed down to a few basic concerns.

I spent a sleepless night last night working out how to get my beloved tee shirt off without destroying it, having a much-anticipated shower (the highlight of my last 36 hours), and then wondering what sort of shirt or apparel I could put back on that would cause me the least amount of pain to remove next time I fancy a shower.

Now I wait and see if the bone clinic in Hastings will call me up and offer me an operation.

Don’t get distracted, focus on the job in hand.

Total
0
Shares
People are also reading