5 stitches on the brow, cuts on the nose, cheek, lip, forehead.
No head injuries but the shock wiped out memories.
And I spilled my martini.
This is climbing related, in the sense that I cannot climb for a short while because of this non-climbing related injury. This is not climbing related in the sense that I had a head butting competition with a road.
The way I remember it is as follows:
I woke up standing in the shower, ‘Hmmmmm, why am I here and what’s going on? I think ill pop out and ask anyone what’s happening.’
I get out, dry myself and look in the mirror. My face is replaced with blood.
‘That’s not supposed to be blood. That’s supposed to be my face’
I get dressed and wrap paper towels around my head. At this point I recognize the house is the surf house where I go when my fingers are too sore for climbing.
I get out of the shower and see my two buddies staring at me google eyed.
“oh, sorry guys. Showers free. I think there’s still some hot water left.”
After a quick call to Wonthagi hospital, some mad driving and a bit of a nap, I arrived at a comfortable bed/table, chatting away to a doctor with a strange U.K/German accent. He gave me 5 stitches and then glued up the rest of the damage. I asked him for some drugs but he said he didn’t have anything that could be smoked.
I don’t remember what happened, how it happened or why I was cruzing down the steepest hill of Inverloch on a skateboard at 1:00 in the morning on a Thursday night. But a revisit to the site made me proud that I made it that far, and that I managed to paint the road red. The road may have won the fight but I got a few good punches in.
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