Originally Posted by Jaeger
Cut your finger off???
Well done for picking that up. Meant to say "tried to". Bugga
This is a good MADMOBILE CHRONICLE in itself....
Me and Mrs Madder loaded up this tubular steel sofa-bed frame no probs. When unloading, it was in bed-mode, we grabbed it by the end-frames, well clear of the hinges. Somebody came to "help" and grabbed part of the bed frame that forms the backrest and lifted from there shifting the weight of the whole thing. This meant we tilted sideways and I grabbed another bit of the end-frame. Remember that the "helper" is holding a moving section of sofa-bed. Later he let go and the thing suddenly folded into sofa-mode. Part of the hinge mechanism levered out and grabbed my left middle finger and scissored it against the frame. SO where does that leave me??
I'm still supporting this metal sofa-bed and my finger bone is the the only thing stopping the heavy steel frame from fully moving into sofa-mode (the flesh had already given way). I started going ape-shit
and, as the frame is sprung as well and has a complex hinge movement, nobody knew what to do. The "helper" grabs the frame again and proceeds to put further pressure on the finger
. Mrs. Madder is so freaked out by my guttural, high-volume shouting and swearing she was too scared she'd make it worse. After at least 30seconds I calmed down enough to carefully explain what to do, meanwhile the hinge pressure has been decreased and increased several times.
Now this is where things get good...
Mrs Madder takes a look at my very flat middle joint and demands I get in the Ute. She jumps in the driver’s seat and we make the 10-15k journey to the hospital. She maintained a minimum 10-20Km/h over the limit all the way really keeping the Boss on the boil. On the freeway she took no shit and kept it really singing. I was feeling a bit light-headed but just sat-back and thoroughly enjoyed the ride.
I’m still so proud of her for that ride, great stuff.
In the end…
At the hospital no waiting in queues, straight in, good lie down, x-rays, stitches and lots of soothing reassurances. Injury described as explosion wounds. Flesh just popped out of the way of the hinges. Still scarred and sensitive and can’t bend fully.
AND NOW THE PUNCHLINE…
This was the first item we moved in our shift from our old place to our two new places (a rental place in town and our own place on the coast). Lifting was no-go
so for a month I was director-general of the removals, typical duty being to stand beside the Ute and say, “there’s more space over here” while pointing pathetically with bandaged finger.