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Musings and Minor Incidents II
13 years ago
General
Exactly as the title reads. See a lot of funny stuff happens to me, not all of it amusing. I'll be trying different writing styles out whenever I can to keep the style fresh, but trust me: my day to day musings, as well as the minor incidents, might not always be for the faint of heart!
Here's looking at you,
BoiToy
- - -
This is a recollection of an incident that took place just before Christmas last year. Now, I work afternoon to evening shifts at work, and prefer to sleep during the day (Night owl right here!) so the optimum time for walking the dogs is somewhere in the middle of the night. I prefer it around that time anyway: Less people, less dogs and less annoying children (grrrr, they always want a Pokemon battle and there's only so many butts you can kick before you get bored of the whole thing. I'm sick of seeing all those Bidoofs, Rattatas and suchlike to be honest...)
Regardless, it's around the middle of the night on a cold, cold winter's eve and our dog walking route takes us up by the river which looks murky, icy and all around nasty. We let the dogs off their leads and away they go! … Right into the bloody river.
No problem though right? They're both Collies, both confident swimmers and both know that there's a bank they can climb out on a short distance away, right?
Wrooooooong!
One of them decides that instead of doing the sensible thing and climb out the way she came in – she's gonna swim towards the bridge: which has a 30 foot high wall on either side, oh and now she decides she can't swim either and goes underwater.
When she didn't surface I knew what I had to do, well, after a little coaxing from Wulf of course. Hey, I'm a skinny guy, it's freezing cold and it was a very panicky moment because events unfolded so damned quick. I got as nekkid as I dared and jumped into that river to rescue my dog.
Immediately I felt cold start to settle in, ravaging my bones. I have virtually no fat on my body at all so the chill was near instant. I was in that ice cold water for half an hour: wading and trying to find my lost pet.
To pour salt into the wound no bystanders wanted to lend a hand or light: it was pitch black down there so I couldn't even see her. Sure bystanders didn't want to help, but some of them decided to hinder instead when Wulf explained to them why I was in there: People were shouting down that she was over here, or over there, a few people even made fake barking sounds. I wish I could find those people now and give them a piece of my mind.
It looked hopeless, and thanks to misdirection I had swum all the way over to the other side of the river, where my only means of escape was scaling a 30 foot wall or by swimming back. I was exhausted, and my bones were so cold it felt as though I were on fire. My limbs were like lead and I didn't have the strength any more. I called out for help: I shouted for someone to call an ambulance or the police... Up above I heard Wulf on the bridge, trying to get people to make the call. But again nobody wanted to help, they were happy to watch the spectacle as I tried desperately to swim back over to the other side again, thinking I had lost my dog.
But then it happened: my dog emerged from the murky waters on the very bank I was swimming towards, looking very cold and very scared; there was Wulf at the other side waiting for me, an ambulance parked nearby and the paramedics climbing out.
Sadly I was done; my strength gave out and I could swim no more.
I let myself go, resigned to sinking. My brain was so cold that I had just given up all hope.
Then I was being pulled out into the warmth: Wulf had waded in and pulled me out.
“Hold him, hug him. He needs to warm up.” I heard her say as I was pulled up to my feet and thrust into the arms of a passerby.
“Alright, but I'm not gay.” The guy responded. I rolled my eyes internally: I had almost frozen and drowned and he was afraid people would assume that hugging me made him gay? Priorities man, priorities!
And then it was into the ambulance where they laid me down and hooked me up to one of those heart monitors... Which immediately flatlined. I was so cold that my heart beat didn't register, the only reason they knew I was alive was because I was talking to them!
Now this looks like it might be the end of the story, but it goes on:
Instead of taking me to the nearest local hospital, they took me to one in a bigger city that was apparently “Better equipped” to deal with my kind of incident. Their treatment consisted of pulling me in an ass-less hospital gown and giving me a few blankets until I warmed up enough that they could kick me out of the ward.
I had no wallet, no ID, no bank card and all the clothes I owned were still soaking wet. They said they couldn't provide transport and that my best bet was a bus or taxi – in fact they suggested I walk to the nearest bus stop.
My shoes were waterlogged and I had just been treated for hypothermia. Did they care? Like hell they cared!
In the end I had to call a workmate and beg them to come pick us up (Yep, Wulf came too). A humbling experience at best but yeah, they came and took us home.
The moral of the story is this: The river can be a cruel and vindictive enemy. An enemy in fact, that I hadn't seen the last of. Oh yes, following that particular incident the river has managed to get me a treat on a few other occasions, but that's another story for another time...
Here's looking at you,
BoiToy
- - -
This is a recollection of an incident that took place just before Christmas last year. Now, I work afternoon to evening shifts at work, and prefer to sleep during the day (Night owl right here!) so the optimum time for walking the dogs is somewhere in the middle of the night. I prefer it around that time anyway: Less people, less dogs and less annoying children (grrrr, they always want a Pokemon battle and there's only so many butts you can kick before you get bored of the whole thing. I'm sick of seeing all those Bidoofs, Rattatas and suchlike to be honest...)
Regardless, it's around the middle of the night on a cold, cold winter's eve and our dog walking route takes us up by the river which looks murky, icy and all around nasty. We let the dogs off their leads and away they go! … Right into the bloody river.
No problem though right? They're both Collies, both confident swimmers and both know that there's a bank they can climb out on a short distance away, right?
Wrooooooong!
One of them decides that instead of doing the sensible thing and climb out the way she came in – she's gonna swim towards the bridge: which has a 30 foot high wall on either side, oh and now she decides she can't swim either and goes underwater.
When she didn't surface I knew what I had to do, well, after a little coaxing from Wulf of course. Hey, I'm a skinny guy, it's freezing cold and it was a very panicky moment because events unfolded so damned quick. I got as nekkid as I dared and jumped into that river to rescue my dog.
Immediately I felt cold start to settle in, ravaging my bones. I have virtually no fat on my body at all so the chill was near instant. I was in that ice cold water for half an hour: wading and trying to find my lost pet.
To pour salt into the wound no bystanders wanted to lend a hand or light: it was pitch black down there so I couldn't even see her. Sure bystanders didn't want to help, but some of them decided to hinder instead when Wulf explained to them why I was in there: People were shouting down that she was over here, or over there, a few people even made fake barking sounds. I wish I could find those people now and give them a piece of my mind.
It looked hopeless, and thanks to misdirection I had swum all the way over to the other side of the river, where my only means of escape was scaling a 30 foot wall or by swimming back. I was exhausted, and my bones were so cold it felt as though I were on fire. My limbs were like lead and I didn't have the strength any more. I called out for help: I shouted for someone to call an ambulance or the police... Up above I heard Wulf on the bridge, trying to get people to make the call. But again nobody wanted to help, they were happy to watch the spectacle as I tried desperately to swim back over to the other side again, thinking I had lost my dog.
But then it happened: my dog emerged from the murky waters on the very bank I was swimming towards, looking very cold and very scared; there was Wulf at the other side waiting for me, an ambulance parked nearby and the paramedics climbing out.
Sadly I was done; my strength gave out and I could swim no more.
I let myself go, resigned to sinking. My brain was so cold that I had just given up all hope.
Then I was being pulled out into the warmth: Wulf had waded in and pulled me out.
“Hold him, hug him. He needs to warm up.” I heard her say as I was pulled up to my feet and thrust into the arms of a passerby.
“Alright, but I'm not gay.” The guy responded. I rolled my eyes internally: I had almost frozen and drowned and he was afraid people would assume that hugging me made him gay? Priorities man, priorities!
And then it was into the ambulance where they laid me down and hooked me up to one of those heart monitors... Which immediately flatlined. I was so cold that my heart beat didn't register, the only reason they knew I was alive was because I was talking to them!
Now this looks like it might be the end of the story, but it goes on:
Instead of taking me to the nearest local hospital, they took me to one in a bigger city that was apparently “Better equipped” to deal with my kind of incident. Their treatment consisted of pulling me in an ass-less hospital gown and giving me a few blankets until I warmed up enough that they could kick me out of the ward.
I had no wallet, no ID, no bank card and all the clothes I owned were still soaking wet. They said they couldn't provide transport and that my best bet was a bus or taxi – in fact they suggested I walk to the nearest bus stop.
My shoes were waterlogged and I had just been treated for hypothermia. Did they care? Like hell they cared!
In the end I had to call a workmate and beg them to come pick us up (Yep, Wulf came too). A humbling experience at best but yeah, they came and took us home.
The moral of the story is this: The river can be a cruel and vindictive enemy. An enemy in fact, that I hadn't seen the last of. Oh yes, following that particular incident the river has managed to get me a treat on a few other occasions, but that's another story for another time...
