In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Not The Right Tool For The Job

We were building a concrete pad for cranes inside a unit in a facility that makes rubber. It was a small pad, but it had substantial reinforcement.

Most of the rebar was stock length, but there were a few pieces that needed to be cut. The only thing we had for this task was a rebar bender/cutter designed for rebar smaller than that required.

I scratched my head at first, wondering if I needed to go buy a hacksaw and cut the rebar. After considering my options, I decided to put a cheater pipe on the handle of the cutter and use it to cut the rebar.

The first few pieces were no problem, although it took a substantial amount of leverage on the pipe to accomplish the cut. Then, we found a problem.

One bar was either better steel, or we were getting tired. Our typical method wasn't working, so I decided to get rough.

I pulled on the cheater pipe, soon had all my weight on the pipe and was rocking on the pipe, with the hope it would soon cut. It did.

The rebar snapped, and the six foot long pipe fell; striking me in the chest.

After a few minutes of sitting on the sidelines, I went back to work. We soon had everything ready and poured the concrete.

On the way home, my chest started hurting. After arriving home, it reached the point where it was hard to breathe, without pain. I started worrying and my wife soon convinced me to go to the emergency room.

After some x-rays, too many minutes worrying about what I'd managed to destroy and the consultation with the doctor, it was determined the pipe flexed the rib joints, much like bending a finger back to far.

So, I was prescribed an anti-inflammatory medication, sent on my way and learned being a dumbass has its limitations.


  1. Still trying to find those limitations...

    1. Age is bringing more each day. Still, I have to watch myself and take in consideration I'm not ten feet tall and bulletproof.

  2. Not to be an alarmist, I know several men who had impacts to their chests and had similar results--er visit. Then, six months later had a heart attack. I forget what happened on impact, loosened plaque they did not know they had, I believe.

    Your fix was smart, just backfired.

    1. It happened twenty years ago. Any plaque dislodge is now in my brain.....did I tell you about the time I was hit in the chest by a pipe?

    2. This was not recent? It was pipe and not rebar? Oh, okay.

  3. I was all shocked and concerned and then I noticed in your reply that it happened 20 years ago. Tut-tut. Giving your readers a scare like that over old news....

    Well, I'm still glad it wasn't more serious.

    1. I guess I should place a disclaimer on such posts. I never really think about how others may perceive what I write.

      I have a future post about being hit by a backhoe bucket. That one was scary, since I could have been killed in another location.

      I posted one story, and someone that replied was confused about whether it was a real occurrence, or fiction.

      It was true, although I felt it was a Twilight Zone material, after it happened.

    2. And I have to add: The world is a smaller place, when people you really don't know are concerned about your well being.


  4. Obviously 20 years ago. These days you can twist the rebar into pretzels.

    1. Yep. I, also, can levitate, bend forks with my mind and have x-ray vision.