 |
 |
|
|
|
February, 2007
Communication Breakdown
By Patrick Langan
It was a beautiful day in the spring and we were ready to take full advantage of Mother Nature’s kindness. We started fully prepped and dressed for a day at the usually chilly Wildcat Mountain and proceeded to have – as we liked to say – a “top ten” day. This is one of those days where you literally hear people laughing on the way down. The sun was shining, and the snow was like mashed potatoes. Yes a picture perfect day for me and my peeps.
There were six of us that day. We always got a great group of people together for each season and this day was no exception. We had both family and friends and all were very talented boarders and skiers.
Midway though the day it was getting quiet and we decided to capitalize on a fantastic jump caused by the intersection of two trails. Above the jump was a simple fork with the left path leading to the jump and the right path leading to the trail under the jump. Now we always chat prior to heading off to let everyone know what the plan/idea was and after a quick discussion, it was decided. At this point there was no one on the mountain and being the last six in sight, we figured it was well worth hitting this thing.
We were off. Again, picture perfect, tee-shirts and a sunburn kind of day and we were at the top of our game. Every carve was spectacular, soft snow, a gentle breeze and here comes the fork – to the left down a bit, getting to a good speed, curve to the right and boom! Floating through the air and mid way around in a gentle 360 and boom I get hit! Kind of like a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. Odd though, when we left the top of the mountain together the six of us agreed to head in the same direction, meaning there was no way someone could be on that trail. With the snow finally out of the goggles I see my little sister Katy standing above me. Turns out there was a communication gap and she had gone to the right. No biggie, nobody got hurt.
We laugh, get up and continue down the mountain and that’s when I feel a bit of pain on my elbow. Well, lookie here, I guess the collision did hurt a tad. That cute little sister. A couple more turns and she catches up to me looking white as a ghost and pointing at my elbow. Hmmm, it does kind of hurt and she rarely just points without talking so I stop to look. It seems I was leaving a trail behind me that would make Whitey Bulger wince. It seems the collision was mostly her newly sharpened snowboard against my elbow and the board won.
It cut my through my shirt and flesh like a razor sharp knife in meat. After a brief conference, my shirt comes off and becomes my life-saving tourniquet (okay not really life saving, but it does sound better). With so few people on the mountain, we decide to hurry down. We arrive at the medical room and the “doctor” gets all pumped up, claiming it’s one of the deepest cuts he has ever seen. He was actually excited! After I sign a waiver to not sue Wildcat, he starts his work. Rubber gloves, saline solution, a giant Band-Aid to close it up and we are off to the Hospital. My trusty bro JB gets me to the ER in record time and everyone else is off to the pub.
The pain is currently a 4 out of 10 and I only know this because of what happens next. Because it was metal that caused the incision he first needs to give my elbow a tetanus shot. Ouch. Once that is completed he then started shoving a second needle repeatedly into the cut in order to prep it for stitches – 16 but who is counting – the pain number went to 11. Now, I am not a crying man, but holy shit…
Good old brother JB was the lucky man who got to hang with me during my stitching up, and he was great. Lying through his teeth he kept on reassuring me that, “it doesn’t look that bad” and “almost done”. The doc was getting towards the last stitch when JB mentioned to the doc that it didn’t really “line up.” Huh?? How do stitches not “line up”? Well it turns out it’s kind of like when you button a shirt and start with the wrong button. Stay with me people….what happens when you are at the top?!?! But wait, these are stitches not buttons. Hmmm, what to do? Well my trusty old doc has an idea and simply grabs a scalpel. Nice…real nice. He slices and dices and extends the cut another ¾ of an inch (I know because he showed me the amount of skin he had to remove!). Chicken anyone?
Two more stitches and we are off to the pharmacy for some well-deserved perc’s and then to the pub, where we all meet up and continue the picture perfect day.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
Design and Content © 2002 to 2006 No Umbrella