There are those they say I am injury prone. There are many of my friends (and now even blog associates) who carry injuries from their very active lifestyles. Just today, Dirk has spider related toe injuries, Dr Nick has a busted knee (forgot his kneepads, bang, oospies, ow), snowangel has a torn achillies from generally working out more than any ten people. I have a minor ligament tear in my finger and Achilles tendonitis from cricket.
That is just todays list. If we go into history, I can report over 100 breakages, with each of my fingers coping at least one each, and my poor nose getting busted in excess of 15 times. Nick has spectacular motorcycle and mountain bike accidents. I play dangerous sports, and love them. When I look around to most of my friends, they are all cool, calm guys and girls that like doing really dangerous stuff. My long term female non-girlfriend friends all have one thing in common - they've all patched me up, from sewing my foot back together to helping me set broken fingers.
My best stack: One of the most under-rated sports in terms of danger is volleyball. Not the sun and sand version, I mean hard court volleyball. One, you have a hard, smooth floor. When you come down, that wood does not give. Unless you plant cleanly, you will slip and slide. And if you go up, you have to come down.
I was playing for the Dragons in Maryborough. I went up for the spike, and nailed it. I came down, and landed with my foot flat on the ground. Another defender came down, perfectly legally, however right on top of my foot. I fell over, and my knee was touching the ground. While my foot was still flat on the floor, pressed down by the other guys foot.
The close tendons went through compression, the far ones went from stretch. I was instantly in shock, which was handy, as it was a complete mess. I instantly called for two people to carry me off. When I am in dealing with a critical stuation, such as injury, sports, or shock, I get very 'general' and order people around. I ordered two people to carry me in a cradle. I was being carried towards the spectators, which happened to include a visiting Californian girls representative team. At this point, the ankle realised that it was not actually being held in place by anything other than a skin bag, and lolled (old school lolled, my foot did not laugh out loud) most dramatically. Dramatically enough that pretty much anyone who was watching screamed in horror.
With that little bugger of an injury I spent three months off my feet entirely, and then three months on crutches. Even at that rate, I was off the crutches to early, and my limping caused my left leg to lengthen.
Where do you come in on the scale of danger? Is this whole scene alien to you? Are you one of those that busts their body looking for the thrills that can only be found near the edge, or do you walk the calmer path? Give me a rundown - best mangles, and do you wham yourself regularly?