There is a statistic that states that most accidents are self-inflicted and happen at home. But I never thought it would happen to me until a recent Sunday when I needed to get something from my wardrobe. It was on the top shelf that even I couldn't reach unaided. I wasn't gonna let that slow me down though and, rather than spend time getting a chair to stand on, I assessed that if I stood on one of the lower shelves I would be able to get the task over and done with in double-quick time.
So bare-footed, I lifted myself up and stretched out my arms to get my quarry. As I went up on one foot my world collapsed beneath me when the shelf crashed to the floor.
The initial shock and stab of pain was immediately irritating but not enough to be any more than just plain annoying. Not wanting to reveal my stupidity and hoping that my significant other didn't hear the crash, I backed away from the wardrobe and started to quickly pick up all the T-shirts that had been displaced in the commotion. As I hurriedly gathered armfuls of garments and jammed them back onto the remaining shelves, I was oblivious to the damage I had caused my foot. With the arrival of my other half coming to investigate the crashing, I was suddenly distracted by her scream. Before I could even blag my way out of the situation by claiming that nothing had happened, I followed her gaze to the floor where there was a pool of blood.
I am not proud of the stream of expletives that exploded from my mouth in that moment, made worse when I picked up my foot to investigate the crime scene. In the worst place, right at the base of my big toe, was a massive cut.
As I looked at it, it struck me that it resembled an image from a National Geographic Shark Week trailer, like a great white had risen out of the water to bite me just after devouring a seal.
Strangely, my first thought was that it may stop me playing football the following week, so for that reason I went into the bathroom to take care of it. I ran into the shower and started "cleaning" it before realising it looked like I was in the middle of a cheap slasher movie as streams of the red stuff swirled around the plughole. I didn't once think of actually going to hospital; believing that I know more about my body than a doctor who spent years learning their trade, I took care of it myself with a roll of kitchen towel and a roll of sticky tape! I don't know what I could be an advert for - but I am mature enough to accept that it might be a typically, stupid arrogant man!
Walking-wounded-ly yours,
G*Nice
