It seems that all the memories of fence fixing accidents it was my blood that got spilled…
Such as when my Father was on one end of the crowbar and me on the other with a new roll of barbed wire between us on the bar, which we were rolling out for a new fence…it snapped, wrapping itself around who’s are?…mine, of course, and being nice, new wire, it had plenty of spring, while it dug into my arm laying the vein just above my wrist on the outside of the arm. It continually pumped blood in his face as he worked to get the wire off my arm…I did notice a better squirt everytime I clenched my fist…payback I guess!!
After the wire was removed or should say replaced with his tightly wrapped handkerchief …we were good to go. One of his sayings “It’s a long ways from your heart” was heard everytime I said, ‘Boy that sucker hurts ,’ if jarring it while pounding posts or stapling the wire up. He must have gotten his point across, cause years after his death was when I pulled my best one…
Fixing a three strands of barbed wire fence along the road would fix a ways, then go back and get the tractor with the small trailer carrying posts, wire and tools! I was almost to the point the fence headed out thru the swamp where I had to leave the tractor by the road when I found a broken bottom strand of wire right by a fence post… Grabbing the second wire I slid under to the other side…at that same time there was a broken bottle with the sharp point sticking up that jabbed a two inch hole, three inches deep in the back side of my left leg!
Not knowing I was bleeding more than a little bit, I kept fixing fence til chore time! When returning to the farm, I thought I had gotten water in my boot from walking in the swamp but when I took it off I was pouring blood out of the boot.
Putting wet pant leg and boot full of blood together, I found the small hole in my pants along with the bigger hole in me…I can’t remember where Carol had gone that day, so I had to have my mother wrap up my leg so I could milk.
What happened when we wrapped my leg, who knows? What I do know id after milking about a dozen cows, I could tell I was getting low on blood. Into the house I go to get my mother to drive me to the hospital, now. Oh Yeah, she doesn’t drive standard, well she can just not the truck which is all that was there , so I drove.
Got there in record time to have the doc tell the nurse to stop the bleeding! Knowing the nurse and knowing that wasn’t her job, I asked her to call him back in…As he entered the room, I jumped off that bed / slab, to inform the doctor, ‘ Sir I have been pouring a boot full of blood every few minutes, since I got back to the farm.’ I told him I had intentions to back track and find out, and when I laid back down, I said ‘Get your ass in gear…’
Get going he did, with what ever they used to cauterize wounds, cause that was the only way they got it stopped… I also got some stitches, in fact , the only ones I have ever had, cause I can do wonders with good tape!
After explaining to them that I had to go home to finish milking, chop – chop! Of course my driver couldn’t drive so I did…Ouch, that was my clutch leg..Milking was slow and looking back, this could have been the first milking parlor thoughts………..