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1 Petrain

It Could Always Be Worse

I lowered the orange fiberglass ladder down from the second floor of the apartment building, another broken window fixed. After I go back to the shop and put my tools away, Ill then have to go into the apartment and clean up any broken glass on the floor of the master bedroom. Its just another day at Golfbrook Apartments. This particular building is on the eighteenth fairway of a country club, and is about one hundred and fifty yards from the tee box. The fairway curves around to the right just past the building, so the golfers really cannot see the green. They always try to get their balls to curve slightly to follow the fairway, but not many can do this, and usually end up hitting the building. Luckily, there is a large supply of glass to replace the windows on hand in the maintenance shop. I loaded the thirty foot ladder on top of the golf cart and secured it with rubber bungee cords. I use the cart to carry my tools and parts for the many different repairs I will have to make during the day. Slowly I back away from the building, barely avoiding yet another errant golf shot. Shaking my head I reach down with my right hand and shift the cart into forward and make my way around a beautiful forty foot tall magnolia tree. I drove slowly in between two buildings to avoid losing the ladder resting on the roof above my head. I crept down over the curb, the front tires hitting the street, and then the rear tires edging over the curb to the asphalt. I turn left to head to the maintenance shop to remove the ladder. I waved to a couple of residents on the tennis courts as I passed. It was about this time that I heard a scraping sound coming from beneath the cart. It did not sound like the usual twigs or branches that will sometimes get

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jammed under there. This sound was definitely metal scratching on pavement, and I have to say, it was quite irritating. As I pass the tennis courts, the shop is in sight. Reaching above my head I pushed the button on the remote control which opens one of the two wooden brown garage doors that are used to house all of the equipment to do the jobs needed to keep the complex running smoothly. Slowing the cart to a stop, I immediately grab the ladder and carry it over to the left of the shop where we had built a special storage space for the three ladders we had on the property. This was the best idea we had ever had. It kept the shop from being too cluttered and allowed my crew to have more room to park the three golf carts we had on property in the shop. There is a large wooden work bench at the rear of the shop, it was four feet deep and ten feet wide and was cluttered with many tools and assorted parts. I saw the commercial vacuum cleaner sitting there where someone had left it instead of putting it away. I grabbed it and a small broom and turned toward the golf cart parked in front of the open door. I could see from inside the dark and dusty shop that there was a metal rod hanging from beneath the golf cart. The part hung down from the area directly beneath the seat. I had no idea what it could be. It couldnt be the gear linkage because I had used forward and reverse. The brakes were also working, so that wasnt it. Setting the vacuum cleaner down, I walked over to the cart and knelt down to look under the frame from the front of the cart. I could see the rod more clearly at this angle. It was about a half inch in diameter with an L shape on the end that was hanging down. There was another part in front of it with a hole in it where it obviously fit. It seemed as if a clip of some sort had come loose and allowed the rod to fall away from its home. I still had no idea what it was for. I

3 Petrain

could not reach it from my kneeling position so I lay on my back in front of the cart and reached my right arm beneath. Sure enough the part fit into the hole perfectly. Being the inquisitive mechanical minded person that I am, I still wanted to know what it was for. What was its function? I could see that the part was made to move forward and backward. Without even thinking about it, I reached back under the cart and grabbed the rod and inched it forward to check the movement. As soon as it hit a certain point, the cart raced forward with me under it. I was pinned under the cart in a split second. I turned my face to the left to avoid catastrophe. This was purely instinct; there was no time to think about reacting, it just happened. The right front tire rolled up and over my chest. I was now pinned under the twelve hundred pound golf cart, and I needed to get out of there fast. I was able to curl my arms underneath the cart and lift it up enough to move it to the right as I moved my body to the left. Having seen the tire move over my face I knew I was home free. I let my arms relax and the cart fell to the ground next to me. I could feel the sweat pouring down my face as the heat from the pavement seared my back. I stood up and felt the sweat flowing from my face; I looked down and realized that I was not sweating as bad as I had thought. I was bleedinga lot. I grabbed the radio off of my belt, and called my boss. John! I yelled into the radio. Im at the shop and Im hurt. I need help quick! The right side of my face was already beginning to swell badly. I could not open my mouth to talk right, so I am sure John had a hard time understanding me. I heard his voice on the radio, Dave, are you alright? No! I screamed. I need help!

4 Petrain

I began to run through the shop trying to find a clean rag or cloth to hold to my face. I was bleeding profusely and I could see my crimson liquid staining the dirty shop floor. Every piece of cloth I found was stained with grease or oil, I could find nothing clean enough to try and stop the loss of blood from my torn face. I put my hand up to my face to try and stop the flow. This is about the time the pain was setting in. I was not far from panicking, and the pain was indescribable, a cross between a root canal with no Novocain and being hit in the face with a pick axe. Not good, to say the least. I heard John pulling up to the shop in his cart. I ran out of the shop and the minute he saw me he grabbed his radio and ordered someone in the rental office to call 911. Ramon, the house keeper, came up and parked behind John. He saw me and immediately opened his cargo box on the back of his cart and pulled out a new bag of cotton towels he used for cleaning. He handed me one and I put it on my face as he went straight to the refrigerator in the shop and began to rummage for ice. I held the towel to my torn face and saw that the flow of blood was not stopping. The towel was soaked instantaneously it seemed. I watched as Ramon filled another clean towel with ice and handed it to me to replace the blood soaked cloth I had been holding to my face. I went through a lot of towels, soaking them almost as fast as I applied them to my face, and yet the flow would not stop. I think back upon this time now, and it makes me think that I know a little about how the men who are trying to stop the flow of oil in the gulf feel. Try as they may, they cannot stop the flow. That is exactly how I felt. I used pressure, I tried ice, then ice and pressure. Nothing would stop the precious blood from flowing from the gaping wound in my face, just as the precious flow of oil pumps from the hole in the earth, threatening to hurt or kill everything it comes in contact with.

5 Petrain

I was on fire, from my right eye down to my jaw and lips. I was in intense pain, the likes of which I had never felt before. I did not know what to do. The ice felt good in a way, but it also felt as though I were holding jagged pieces of glass to my face. John had me lie down on the seat of his cart while we waited for the ambulance. I could hear the sirens off in the distance and wished they were there with me. I was afraid I was going to bleed out. This is definitely not the way I wanted to die. John asked me what my fiances phone number was. I told him it was in my phone under Colleen at work. It was just as I had gotten those words out that the fire truck and ambulance rounded the corner by the shop. There was a flurry of activity as many men began to assess the situation with me. One of them immediately took the towel away from my face, and applied a sterile gauze pad. I was moved to a stretcher. Someone put an oxygen mask over my mouth but it was digging in to my face, so I tried to remove it. One of the EMTs took my hand and said that I needed the oxygen and to leave it in place. Through my swollen lips I told him that it hurts too much, I need to move it a little. I fought with him for what seemed like an hour, but was mere minutes. He finally relented and moved it a little lower. I was still able to get the needed oxygen, but it did not hurt nearly as bad. The gauze on my face was changed many times as they consulted each other as to what would be the best way to handle the flow. A pressure bandage was then applied to the wound and held in place with a strip of gauze wrapped around my head. Blood pressure, pulse, check the eyes, it was all done quickly and with no wasted movements. The time had come for me to be moved to the back of the ambulance for the trip to the hospital. As two men took hold of the front and rear of the stretcher they lifted it straight up to lock the wheels and roll me to my ride. Unfortunately, someone had inadvertently left the

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oxygen tank sitting on the ground. When they lifted the stretcher, my face was jerked to the left because of the mask attached to the tank. The pain this caused rivaled the original injury. There was a quick apology as the tank was stowed under the stretcher, and I saw the back of the ambulance looming above my head. Once inside, I was greeted by an EMT who looked like he belonged on the set of Baywatch. He was a cross between Mathew Mcconaughy and a young David Hasselhoff. He looked like he was about twenty years old, and that did not give me a warm fuzzy feeling. He explained to me that he needed to get an I.V. started right away. I just nodded to him as he took my hand in his and inserted a needle. I watched him as he inserted that needle three times and could not get a vein. I really could not understand this as my hands have very large raised veins. Finally he switched to my other hand and got it in on the first try. He began to write on a large yellow note pad, and told me we would not be on the road long. I then looked down at my hand which had swelled up considerably. Hey, I mumbled through the oxygen mask and my swelled lips. He looked up at me and I wiggled my hand at him. He said Oh shit, and proceeded to remove the needle leading to a small fountain of clear liquid to squirt from the back of my right hand. By this time we were arriving at the hospital, and he told me he was going to be in trouble for not having an I.V. started yet. I just looked at him with daggers in my eyes. If I could have spoken, he would have known exactly how I felt. I could not have cared less about him getting in trouble; I just did not want him to ever touch me again. I was wheeled into the emergency room amid a cacophony of sounds. There was a nurse to greet me and began asking questions. I knew these questions were helping her to diagnose me,

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but I hated her. I did not know why, but I just thought these ridiculous questions were a waste of time, when it was obvious that I may need some attention to the gaping wound in my face. What is the date David? What year is it? Who is the president? she asked me in rapid succession. I just wanted them to fix me, I did not want to play twenty questions with this nurse, but I answered her. I was brought into a room and left alone. About fifteen minutes later somebody checked on me and asked me how I felt. I looked at this person as if they had three heads. I hurt, I hurt a lot. She then removed the bandage from my face and looked at the wound. You might need a few sutures to close that up. I did not respond to her statement. I just kept thinking to myself, this is nuts, this has to be a dream, judging by the blood that I had seen flowing from my face, I may need more than a few sutures. The Doctor was finally able to find the time to look in on me. He said that I would have to lie still until they took x-rays and got a look at my neck to see if it was broken or not. I felt like a ventriloquist and trying to talk without moving my lips. I showed him that I could move my neck and told him that I did not hit my neck at all. He said that is a good thing, but they still needed to do their jobs, and he would have the nurse come in with something for pain. The question asking nurse came in with a syringe of clear liquid, and looked down at my hand. She was pissed off that there was no I.V. started yet. I chuckled to myself thinking about the young guy in the ambulance being reprimanded. In about twenty seconds she had me hooked up to an I.V. Maybe she wasnt as bad as I thought. Dave, oh my god, are you okay honey? I looked behind the nurse to see my fiance

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Colleen standing there with her hand over her mouth. She stepped around the nurse and looked at me, and began to cry. I could see in her face that I was fucked up. The nurse explained that she was going to give me some morphine for the pain. I watched as she pressed the plunger on the syringe. I could feel a burn like I have never felt before and never want to feel again. I felt that burn begin in my hand and travel throughout my entire body. I began to sweat, and thought I may be dying, but then the euphoric feeling came over me, and I was much better. Colleen sat with me and held my hand. I saw her turn her head to the door and I followed with my eyes. John and Ramon were standing there. Their look of concern hit me. I had never really thought about it too much, but these guys really cared about me. Colleen told them that I would be going down to x-ray soon, and we would know more after that. The guys came over to the bedside and grabbed my hand one at a time. They both told me they hoped I felt better soon and left me alone with the woman I love. I was whisked down a long and blinding hallway. I am not sure if it was the color of the walls, the bright lights, or the intense pain killing drugs I was on, but that hall made me close my eyes. It was that bright. Once in the x-ray room I was transferred to another bed, well it wasnt really a bed, more like a flat movable table. There was a very pretty blonde technician taking the pictures of me. I have since forgotten her name, but will never forget her green eyes looking into mine as she told me that she will be as gentle as she can with me. She was very gentle, and although she did hurt me at times, it could have been much worse. With all of the pictures taken, I was wheeled back into the room where Colleen waited patiently for me. Alone again, she looked so sad. She looked at me and told me in a quiet voice

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that it would be alright. She would be there for me, and I would be alright. I thought that that statement was strange. I never thought for a minute that I would not be alright once I got to the hospital, and I also knew that she would be there for me. I just looked at her and said I know baby, I know. I had to use the restroom pretty bad, and even though I was not supposed to get up, I did. Colleen helped me stand on shaky legs at first, but the feeling went away quickly. I walked across the hall to the mens room. I closed the door behind me and began to relieve my full bladder. While doing this I looked into the mirror to my left. I was horrified to see what was looking back at me. The face in the mirror resembled me, but there was a three and a half inch jagged slash down the right side of the face. Dried blood was caked all around this uneven gash. This did not look like a cut. It looked as though someone had tried to cut open a tomato with a screwdriver. The edges of the gash were a mish mash of torn flesh. I could see my jaw bone peeking out at me through the gaping wound. I was immediately reminded of Frankenstein, and now I knew what Colleen had been talking about. This was gonna leave a mark, a big, gross mark. I made my way back to the room where Colleen waited for me. She was speaking to the doctor. I entered the room and sat up on the bed. The doctor looked at my face, and then showed me the xrays that he had placed on a lighted box on the wall. Well David, this could have been a whole lot worse for you, he said. The neck and back appear to be fine, but there is something here that I do not like, he said pointing to a spot on the picture with a pen. He was pointing to a section of my jaw on the film. This could very well be a break, and I want you to see a surgeon.

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I looked at Colleen and she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She had her hand over her mouth and I could see that she was very scared for me. I was in no danger of death but the odds of having a nasty scar that resembled a set of train tracks were great. I am going to call for an ambulance to transport you to the Florida Hospital Orlando, the doctor continued. I interrupted him and asked if it would be okay if Colleen just drove me there. She knew how to get there, and I would be more comfortable. He said that would be fine, and that he would make the arrangements for a surgeon to meet us there. A large bandage was installed over the gash, and then a large amount of gauze was wrapped around my head from top to bottom. I looked like a character from a 1930s era movie that had a toothache. It hurt like hell while she was doing it, but after a few minutes the pain subsided somewhat. I was asked to get into a wheelchair and then I was wheeled out to the patient loading area. I sat there with the nurse who had asked me all of the questions when I came in. I looked at her, and said I was sorry. For what, she asked me. When I was being brought in, and you were asking me all kinds of stupid questions, I really hated you. I know it was for good reason, but I could not stop myself, and I feel bad, I told her. She laughed at me, Honey, you are the first person to apologize to me. I have gotten yelled at; people have tried to hit me. Those questions are to help us judge your mental faculties so that we can know where to start with a trauma patient.

11 Petrain

I know that, I really do, but it did not make me hate you any less. I just wanted you to know that there were no hard feelings. She patted my shoulder and said thank you very much, and I do hope you get better soon. With that said, Colleen pulled up in the car. It is a gold Pontiac Gran Prix, and I loved how it sat low to the ground, and it handled like a dream, but I did not relish having to get in and out of it. My jaw was throbbing considerably now, and the muscles in my stomach and back felt as tight as a rubber band stretched to their limits. Colleen came around the car and with the nurses help they lowered me into the car. The ride was short and uneventful; I may have even dozed off for a minute. I felt like I could sleep for days, but for the throbbing which stayed in rhythm with my heartbeat. We got to the hospital and found a parking spot in the garage adjacent to the main building. Colleen helped me out of the car, and once I was standing still and not wobbling she reached in to grab her purse and close and lock the doors. Before we could go any further I told her I needed a cigarette. I reached into my pocket and removed a pack of Marlboro Lights and a lighter. I removed a cigarette and after three tries was able to find a place in between my swollen lips to hold it. I put flame to tobacco, and inhaled. It was not an easy thing to do, and I could see by Colleens look that she disapproved, but she also understood. She is a reformed smoker, so even though she really wishes I would quit, she still understood my need for nicotine at this point in time. We walked slowly into the building and asked directions from the first desk we came to. The lady behind the desk was very curt with Colleen, and acted as if we were a nuisance to her. Colleen then asked her if we may use the wheel chair which sat unused in a corner of the hall.

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I really cannot let you use that chair. That is for patients of Dr. Whats his name. We looked at her unbelieving. Was this woman actually denying that I use a wheel chair in a hospital? Colleen just shook her head and we began our trip into the hospital. We walked, and walked, and walked. We passed a man and woman with a small child and they just stared at me, and grabbed for their offspring. I looked down at myself and realized what I must look like. I had tire tracks across my upper chest, blood stains throughout my shirt, and asphalt jammed into my elbows. It seemed like an eternity before we saw another person, but we did see someone else. A male nurse sitting behind a desk saw us walking towards him. He jumped up and got a wheel chair and brought it over to us. I sat down and just slumped into the chair. I was so tired. Colleen told him where we were supposed to be and he brought us to the right place. Along the way we related out experience with the crabby woman when we first entered the building. He just shook his head and sighed. Apparently he has had dealings with this woman, but would not elaborate. You must be David, said a man walking towards us. I shook his hand and nodded. I gave him the x-rays that I had been carrying since we left the other hospital. We entered an examination room and he put the films on a light box. Yup, that could definitely be broken, he said to us. He then proceeded to explain what this meant to me. Well, the first thing I am going to do is clean you up. I am going to go in as deep as I need to, and clean and disinfect you. I will then look at the jaw bone. If its broken I am going to wire your jaw closed. Do you understand what that means to you? he asked me. I nodded at him and said, No eating.

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I know its going to suck being this close to thanksgiving and all, but just be glad you dont have perfect teeth, at least you will be able to get a little more ground turkey in your mouth. I just nodded my head and agreed with him. My teeth are not really that bad, but I do have a crooked tooth on the bottom, right in front. It is not that noticeable, but I knew he was right. If I had to have my jaw wired shut, I would be able to eat more liquefied food than a person with perfect teeth. My parents showed up about this time. Apparently Colleen had called them to tell them what happened. My mom, my dad, and my little brother were there around my bed. I just looked at them, and shook my head. My mom was crying and leaning into Colleen, my dad had tears in his eyes and my brother did not know what to do. I just smiled at them and said, It could always be worse. They smiled at me, and I like to think that they agreed with me, but Im not sure of that. A nurse came in and put something in my I.V. hose. I was going to ask her what it was, but all of a sudden I could not keep my eyes open. When I awoke, I looked around the room. Colleen, mom, dad, Conrad, I was trying to figure out why they were all around my bed. It then hit me that I was in the hospital, and I remembered what had happened to me. I was groggy to say the least. I was in a fog, but I was in no pain. I really liked that a lot. When the nurse saw that I was awake, she summoned the doctor. He came in with a folder in his hand.

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Dave, youre a pretty lucky guy. No break. I found nothing to indicate that your jaw was broken, so I just cleaned you up and sutured you closed. Thanks docahhh, when can I go home? Well, that depends on your body. Your body has to totally recover from anesthesia before you can be discharged. What that means is, I need to have at least 500 ccs of urine to be released before you can be discharged from here. I nodded to him, and immediately fell back asleep. When I awoke, my family was gone and Colleen was holding my hand. Do you have to pee honey? I think so, I said to her. She helped me up and into the bathroom, but try as I might, I could not go. I made my way back to the bed and climbed in. I shook my head to her and fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later and tried again. This time I actually squirted the tiniest amount into a cup and filled the rest with water from the sink in the bathroom. I gave it to the nurse who left to get the release paper work. I kept my secret to myself. I did not even tell Colleen because I knew she would make me stay until I went to the bathroom for real. The nurse came back and I signed whatever she put in front of me. I was then seated in a wheelchair once again and rolling toward the parking garage. The trip out of the hospital was a lot better than the trip in. Of course I slept most of the way, but the nurse was very nice to us, and seemed to truly care about her patients.

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Once again I was lowered into Colleens car. Only this time I was dressed in a hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket that I was given to stay warm. I fell asleep almost as soon as my butt hit the seat and the seatbelt was fastened. I awoke and looked around. It was dark and there were very few cars on the road. We were not on the interstate, and this route would take much longer to drive the thirty five miles home. I asked Colleen why we were taking the back roads home. I want to get your prescription filled before we get home. I am hoping to find a twentyfour hour pharmacy, She said to me. I just nodded to her. This made a lot of sense, and I would never have thought about it. I promptly fell asleep again. I woke up as we were pulling into a Walgreens pharmacy. The drive thru window was open, and Colleen handed over the prescription. The pharmacist looked down into the car from his vantage point behind the window. We must have looked a little odd to him at five oclock in the morning. Colleen held my hand and smiled at me. You know he probably thinks you just broke me out of a hospital somewhere, I chuckled and said to Colleen. She smiled back at me, and looked at me with her sad green eyes. She held my hand and said that I was alright. I made it, and we would fix whatever we need to fix. I knew that she was talking about the scar that would be left on my face, and it felt good knowing that she felt that way. I had been a little concerned about that. I am not model material, but I am also not an ogre, and knowing that Colleen wasnt going to leave me to fend for myself made me feel good. Having filled the prescription for pain medicine and purchased a bunch of gauze and bandages and tape, we drove for another twenty minutes before home was in sight. I love the

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house we live in, but I had never before felt so good to see that faded gray siding. The salmon colored garage door was finished its ascent, and Colleen pulled slowly into the garage. Just sit right there until I come around to help you honey, she said to me. She got out of the car, careful not to hit her door on the shelves full of paint cans and power tools on her side of the car. She walked around the back of the car and opened the door on the passenger side. I just looked up at her and realized how weak I felt. I was indeed a lucky man to have the help of a beautiful woman who loved me. I was a little wobbly as I stood up, and she held me tight. I told her I was better, and she held me to her as we walked into the laundry room. The door to the kitchen was on the right, and she held that door open for me as she leaned her weight into me to keep me from falling. I was a little dizzy, but at least I was not in a lot of pain and for that I was thankful. We didnt stop in the kitchen but made our way through the room, into the living room, and on to the bedroom. I walked with Colleens help the ten feet to the bed and turned my backside to the bed and just fell back. I landing with a thump on the soft mattress and I knew I could now relax. Colleen asked me if I wanted a shower. I really didnt, but knew that I should go wash myself. I still looked like hell. Dried blood caked on my arms and chest, my hair was greasy and dirty. I slid the door to the shower stall open and was so glad to see the seat inside. The shower was a fiber glass shell, six feet wide and three feet deep. There were two areas to sit inside, or at the very least, they were places where a person could put a leg up for shaving purposes. Colleen had me sit on the toilet and removed my bandages. The doctor had told me to try and keep the wound dry for a couple of days, so washing my hair would be tricky, but not impossible. As the water in the shower was heating up, I looked in the mirror. I was amazed at

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what I saw. The Doctor had done an amazing job with my wound. It was about three inches long and started at the top of the cheek bone and curved its way down to the jawbone. There had to be sixty stitches showing, but it did not look that bad. I had expected train tracks, and got a baseball stitch. Colleen saw me looking, and she told me that the doctor said he had done one hundred and thirty sutures, from the inside out. I was indeed lucky that the hospital thought my jaw was broken. If I had been closed up in the emergency room, I would definitely had train tracks down my face, but since this doctor was a maxi facial surgeon, he did what needed to be done to minimize the scar. A quick scrub in the shower and I was out again. Colleen put new bandages on my face and had me take a pain pill, and she ushered me to the bed. I felt as if I could sleep for days. I am pretty sure I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, but I did not have a long restful sleep. I am a side sleeper. No particular side, either or will do for me. Unfortunately, every time I rolled onto my right side I awoke with a scream as the pain shot through my entire face. After trying to sleep like this for three hours, I got up and went into the living room and sat on a reclining chair. I leaned it back and hoped that my rolling would now be stopped due to the position I was in. It worked and I was able to get some rest, but not until I swallowed another pain pill in the hopes that if I did roll it would not hurt as bad. The next day I felt much better, and even better the next. I was well on my way to recovery. The pain medication helped of course, but it was not very strong and did not limit my mental faculties at all. My boss John called to see how I was doing. I thought that was pretty cool, him checking up on me. We chit chatted a little bit, then he told me that he was not going to

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be able to go on his planned vacation. John always took his family to North Carolina for thanksgiving with his wifes parents. I asked him why, and he told me that the property manager will not allow him to leave on vacation as long as I was out of work. The light bulb went on inside my head; I listened to him explain the predicament he was in and I knew that this was not just a friendly call to find out about my health. I felt bad, I really did, and I know he had planned this trip for months. I told him that I had to see the doctor in the morning and I would see what he said about me returning to work so soon. In the morning Colleen and I drove back to Winter Park to the doctors office. He looked at my face, he poked and prodded. He had me work my jaw in up and down and side to side. He said I was good to go, but would have to come back in a week to have the outside sutures removed. The sutures that were on the inside of my face would dissolve on their own. When we got home I called John and told him I would be back to work in the morning, but I did have to take it easy for a few days. I was not looking forward to going back and having everybody asking questions and staring at me. I still had a large bandage on my face, with tape stretched out in three different directions, but I had to do it sometime. I did not think I would be going back so soon, but I didnt want John to get screwed over. When I arrived at work I parked my car outside the shop and just sat there for a minute. There were still stains from my blood on the pavement in front of the shop. It had been hosed off, but there were a few faint spots where the accident happened. I am assuming that this is where the blood was thickest, and had more time to dry before being cleaned off.

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I opened the car door and stepped out just as John came around the corner in his white Ford pickup truck. He parked behind me, got out and walked up to me with his hand out. I shook it firmly. Thank you Dave, thank you very much. This means a lot to me, he said to me. I could see he was trying not to look at my face, but failing. He opened the door to the shop, and raised the garage doors so we could back the carts out and have more room inside the shop. I backed out first, and then he backed his out. I got off of the cart and walked around to the front of it. I looked down, and for the first time I saw what had done the damage to me face. It was a bolt for the tie rod ends on the steering linkage. The bolt looked to be about 5/8 of an inch in diameter, and there were still pieces of my face hanging off of it. I found this to be fascinating as well disgusting at the same time. John came to stand next to me as I looked down at the culprit. I guess we should have hosed that off too, I never even thought about it, He said to me. Dude, there was so much blood in the shop and on the street outside. If I didnt know any better I would swear someone died here, he continued. I just shook my head and went to grab the hose to clean my flesh off of the cart.

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