. and speaking of hardcore...

Most of the readers of this blog know I've managed to get an injury. A big, fun one. My leg was impaled by a stick, leaving a hole the size of a nickel, in which you can see fat, muscle tissue, and good amounts of bruising. Nature bites back, baby.
At the time I got it, it was sort of funny. Realizing that the injury I got was not to be walked off (there was a blood ringed hole in my pants that made me look like a 'nam vet), I went back to the road and radioed my foreman for first aid. When after a half hour I reached her, I was a little unhinged.
"Colleen Smith? It's Shannon, Block 148, I need first aid."
"Oh, Shannon! Cool, just hop onto Andrew's land, he's got a big pocket at the back that needs planting."
"No! Colleen, I need FIRST AID, I impaled my LEG on a STICK, I am BLEEEDING."
"Shit! I'll be right there."
I heard the truck revving and I feared she was driving at the speed of light on a bush road. She threw the truck into park and jumped out.
"Oh man," she said, "That's a real good one, shan....you're gonna HURT tomorrow..."
So I'm super hopped up on T3s with codeine. When the pain is bad and I need to take two, I become unfortunately stoned. I didn't get into town in time for stitches, so the scar is going to be massive. The crew makes fun of my gymp status, but I know that at least three of them are scared of sticks now.