FISH STORY

You never know what can happen when you decide to go fishing. Our hero, in this story sure had quite a day fishing.

FISH STORY

Fishing, Bet You Didn’t Know It Was A Contact Sport!

 

A story by:

GIUSEPPE

The day this happened, my family and I lived in a sleepy little town in northern New Jersey, about a 45 minute drive from NYC, when traffic permits.  There was a volunteer fire department not too far from where I lived.  Two blocks away at the bottom of a hill was a good sized stream that was called a “river”. 

Every year when trout season came around the “river” was stocked and 7,000 trout fisherman showed up to fish, elbow to elbow along the stream; excuse me, river!  The local streets were filled with fishermen’s cars starting about 4 in the morning on opening day.  After 3 or 4 days, I guess all of the fish that were stocked were caught or swam off to safer waters because there were few, if any, trout fishermen left. 

I grew up at the Jersey shore and fishing, boating, swimming and love for the water were inbred.  After all, there was the ocean, a river, a canal, three lakes and the Barnegat Bay all within a mile or two of one another.  I liked to fish and had done a lot of it over the years, but amateur day on the “river” was too dangerous for me!!  Besides, what were the odds of catching a fish?  About 7,000 to 1!  I had never fished in the “river” in or out of trout season.  I did fish in fresh water lakes and any chance I had to get to the shore and go deep sea fishing I would take.  But I never walked down the hill two blocks to fish in the “river”. 

I was also an avid sports fan especially football, boxing and full contact martial arts. 

To backtrack a little, my wife and I were happily married.  We had two boys, one 24 married with a child on the way, living next door.  Our other was 15, in high school, living at home.  The older son worked locally, a couple of towns away.  The younger was having problems fainting with the onset of his or someone else’s bleeding. 

The next door neighbor on the other side was forever listening to his police radio so he could keep on top of all the happenings.  He never missed a fire, accident, arrest, or cat in the tree call.  Sometimes when he would see one of us he would yell out about the latest thing that just happened. 

Now back to that fateful day.

It was a nice Saturday morning in June, about 8:00 and we had no plans for the day.  My youngest son was sleeping as teenagers are wont to do on weekend mornings.  My oldest son was home next door getting ready to go to work.  My wife said “You look bored, why don’t you grab your fishing gear and walk down to the river and give it a try before breakfast.”  I thought, it is not opening day of trout season, no amateurs, why not?  Little did I know what was coming next!

So, I grabbed a couple of poles that were always rigged and ready to go, my 5 gallon white bucket, which carried gear and doubled as a stool, and started down the hill.  At the bottom of the hill was a fairly wide road that ran next to the “river”, two blocks to the right was Main Street, and across Main Street on the corner was the firehouse.  Across the street along the road next to the “river” was a heavy wooden guard rail that you had to go over to get to the grassy hill down to the water.  As I walked down the street toward the “river” a neighbor, three houses up from the corner by the “river”, was on his porch roof on the side of the house painting it.  I waved at him.  He waved back and hollered, “good luck”! 

Now I was at the corner.  I crossed over the road to the guard rail, laid my poles and bucket on the top of the wood rail, which was about 10 inches wide, and climbed over.  Then I picked up my gear turned, and happily headed down the hill toward the water. 

Suddenly, I slipped!  I went head over heels, and crack bam I was in a heap in pain.  I laid there for a minute knowing I was hurt pretty bad.  My right leg below the knee on the outside had a sharp pain mid-calf.  I thought, damn I broke it!  Then there was the other more serious pain in the right foot ankle area on the inside.  I remembered hearing the crack like a pistol shot!  I thought, damn I snapped a ligament or tendon or whatever they are that holds my foot to my ankle.  DON’T TRY TO STAND UP!! shot through my brain.  So I paid attention, gathered my stuff laying next to me and crawled back up the hill, dragging my screwed up leg, bucket and fishing poles behind me.  My mind wad invaded with thoughts: must be like this in war, keep your head down!  Oh, my God!  What’s my wife going to say?  This is just what she needs on a Saturday morning.  Oh, yeah she told me to go.  I wonder what I am going to miss for breakfast.  Alright, alright, you’re almost to the guard rail.  OK, you made it!  Now pull yourself up on the guard rail and sit down.  Don’t be stupid and put any weight on your leg!  I’m sitting up, hey there’s that guy painting on the roof.  “Hey you up on the roof painting your house can you help me out?  I broke my leg!  Would you please call my wife?”  He answers “sure what’s the number”?  I gave him the number.  He asks if I want an ambulance.  I answer no I’m OK, thanks.  I sat there for a couple of minutes waiting and started to feel pretty bad and shaky, uh oh maybe some shock setting in, better lay down.  I called the guy on the roof and said “hey you better call the ambulance I may be going into shock”.  He said sure.  I thanked him.  (I still don’t know if he ever finished his painting that day.)

So, now I lay down on the grass on the road side of the guard rail, trying to relax and stay calm. 

Meanwhile, back at my house the neighbor announces loudly for all to hear, “they called an ambulance for your husband.”

At the roadside, a few of cars drive by me, slow down, take a look and go on by.  Good Samaritans?

At home the neighbor announces “they’ve gotten calls about a junkie or drunk laying by the side of the road down by the river”.  He hears another call just as my older son goes out the door to work, so he announces to my son “not only did your father break his leg, but he’s had a heart attack!”  More good Samaritans!!

Back at the roadside, it turns out the volunteer fire department was having a fundraiser pancake breakfast down at the firehouse.  Evidently they got the call about the broken legged, drunken, drugged out, heart attack victim just down the road from them, so here comes about 40 guys all running full tilt down the road toward me to save me.  Just then the ambulance arrives.  Thank goodness!  The EMT’s get out of the ambulance and come over and look at me and ask me, “how are you doing?  Do you hurt?  Where’s the pain?  You’ll be OK!”  Next my wife arrives with my younger son who wasn’t quite awake yet - it was about 8:15 AM.  So much has happened in such a little bit of time, I thought.  

Now the EMT’s are conferencing with fireman, their buddies.  Then they talk to my wife about where to take me.  I speak up, having thought about where I wanted to go, I didn’t care about which hospital, I wanted to go wherever the orthopedic doctor was that operated on some of the NY Giants that were hurt the previous season.  I knew he was at one of the local hospitals and I certainly had a sports medicine related injury.  After all I was going fishing, a serious contact sport!  At least now it was! 

Next thing that happens, they’re going to put me in the ambulance.  Scary!  One of the guys from the breakfast leans over the guard rail and grabs my belt and starts to pull me up!  I go, “whoa, stop”!  He asks me, “why, did it hurt?”  I said, “no, but it will if you pick me up like that!  Don’t you guys have one of those shell things that you put together under a victim to pick them up?  One of the EMT’s says, “oh, yeah”!  So without further incident or help from all of the onlookers, I am safely put in the ambulance.  My wife is told where we are going, the sirens start and off to the hospital we go.  On the way the EMT tells me at least you were doing something manly when you got hurt.  We picked up this guy last week who broke his leg falling out of a tree house while playing teatime with his niece.  See, I did have a sports related injury!

Sheer luck of the draw!  When I arrived at the hospital the sports medicine doc I wanted was there!  I went for X-rays and was brought back to the ER.  My wife and son arrive.  They bring my wife some paperwork and she completes it.  The doctor arrives, looks at the X-rays and turns to a wall phone and calls somebody.  He turns back to me and says broken leg, small bone, not too serious, the tendon or ligament is snapped and requires surgery.  I said “when?”, he said “now, I just arranged an operating room”.  He proceeds to describe about swelling, and the procedure he will perform and all of a sudden - crash, bang, boom - my son who was listening faints dead away taking most of the emergency tanks, gauges, lights, IV stands etc., to the floor with him!  I guess it wasn’t only the sight of blood that makes him faint.  So now my wife is signing papers for him.  They put him on the gurney next to me.  Enough excitement for one Saturday morning already!!

Off to my room, to get prepped for surgery.  As they roll me in to my room, past the young guy, about 20, in the bed next to me, I can’t help but notice his leg is hanging up in the air on a pulley system and his big toe is black as coal!  Wonder what he did?  The nurse comes in to do the BP check, etc., a tech comes in to do the EKG etc.  As they are leaving, the kid next to me calls somebody on the phone and complains very loudly about me, the nurses, the techs, the doctors, etc. loudly ranting and raving.  He was cussing a blue streak and generally being obnoxious, belligerent, and uncooperative.  He was asked by my nurse on the way out if there was anything she could do for him.  He snapped at her “no, get out” and muttered “damn idiot!”  A short time later the nurse came back and said “we’ll put you in a different room when you come back from surgery”.  I said, “don’t bother, I’ll do just fine here”.  I thought to myself, I’ll straighten this kid out when I get back.  He can’t get to me, if he tries he’ll be swinging upside down on the pulley system they have his leg strung up on.  I had opted for a spinal anesthetic and knew I would be wide awake when I came back to the room.  It would be good to have something to keep me distracted after surgery. 

Off to surgery I went.  It was really weird to be awake and watch the doctor work!  When he was casting my leg it was surreal to see it and not feel a thing!  Now back to my room.  They wheeled me into my room to the kid’s mumbling something like now what the hell are you people doing?  Everybody leaves the room, the kid thinks I’m groggy as I just came back from surgery.  Now I am 48 years old and definitely not a fighter, but I felt pretty safe with this young, muscular, physically fit, except for his big toe, man tied to his pulley contraption.  So I said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”  He said, “who are you talking to?” I said, “you, you’re not deaf, you got a screwed up toe.  What happened anyway, to get you so pissed?”  He says, “Why the hell to you care?”  “Look”, I said, “I just came back from surgery and you were grumbling when they brought me back, before I went to surgery you were nasty and impolite to everyone, you complained about everything.  You have a terrible attitude, now what happened to you?” 

I don’t know why, maybe because I was aggressive with him, he opened up to me.  It turns out he was 20 years old, an aspiring welterweight boxer, who was to have his first professional fight on this very Saturday night.  He was afraid he would never be able to fight again as he might lose his toe.  He had gotten it caught in a HI-Lo somehow at work the day before.  I was a fight fan and really felt for this young man.  Then I told him something he didn’t know that there was a light heavy weight contender fighting at the time, who had a prosthetic leg from below the knee.  He said, “really?” I assured him.  The next thing I know he is on the phone again telling someone that he had the coolest roommate that knew everything about boxing and that even if I lose my toe, I’ll fight again!  The rest of the day and evening were calm.  He was polite to the night shift, complained a little bit, but nothing like earlier in the day.  I told him that everybody on the medical staff was doing everything they could to help him and that he needed to respect and be nice to them.  I suggested that if he really got them upset, he could be hanging upside down swinging from a pulley.  You might be a great boxer, but the medical staff has the upper hand right now. 

The next morning they took him off for some tests and I left shortly thereafter to go home.  Ten days later I went back to my doc for a look see and the bones in my ankle were separating.  He sent me off to the hospital so he could operate and put a screw through the two bones in my ankle.  I had the procedure, general anesthetic this time, doctor’s orders.  They took me back to my room after surgery and the nurse that comes in to see me is the one that offered me a new room the last time I was in.  She says “What on earth did you do to that poor kid?  The next day after you left last time he was all peaches and cream, thank you this, Mam that, so extremely nice.  Then a day after he was discharged he sent the “floor and staff” a huge bouquet of flowers!” 

I never ever did get my fishing line wet in that “river”!

 

Nine months later I was released from rehab able to walk normally.  Thank you doc!! 

I have no idea if the kid lost his toe or ever boxed again. 

I want to thank all of the emergency workers, first responders, EMT’s, police and firemen who serve, protect and save us from ourselves and our emergencies!  You are magnificent and deserve all our respect and honor.

Reviews

[Sheila Kline]

OMG this is absolutely hilarious! I cannot begin to imagine so many events of disaster happening to one person in such a short period of time, much less surviving to tell about it!
I bet you think twice about fishing today!

Great story, and it is especially nice that you remembered to thank responders who help those who end up in situations as this!

What a fish story!!!! Is it really real?????

[GIUSEPPE]

Thank you for the review. Yes, its a true story. It would be hard to conjure up a story with so many bizarre events, all within hours on the same day. Truth is, many times, stranger than fiction! Going fishing is done very carefully these days! No climbing over guard rails, or walking down grassy hills to the water!! LOL
GIUSEPPE

[Marie]

I really feel for you. I broke my leg badly once, and have some metal in it. It's wonderful what you were able to do for that young boxer. Giving im sme kind of hope when you were so badly hurt yourself.

[GIUSEPPE]

Thank you for reviewing my fish story. Those leg injuries can be quite a bit of work in recovery. Thank God for those wonderful bone docs!
GIUSEPPE