doric_prince
Well-Known Member
Will we be getting a scar photo? I can start us off if you like!
You are a silly SodWell here I am, 3rd hospital in 2 days!
Waiting to see someone in plastic surgery trauma clinic.
Thank you for all your kind words and offers of help - it's good to know there's such a supportive community out there!
However, I do hasten to add that it wasn't to garner sympathy that I started the thread, but more to serve as a bit of a wake-up call to remind everyone how quickly and easily things can go wrong in this walk of life, with the added risk factor of being alone and often in remote and inaccessible places when it all goes tits up.
I notice that it's been assumed that I was carrying out a gralloch at the time, but that's not the case.
On my stalk I came across a dead deer (fallow buck fawn) hanging from a woodland boundary fence. It wasn't until I came right up to it that I realised that it was, in fact, still alive, but only just. Had I noticed any signs of life when I was still 20 yards away I'd have put a bullet into it, but on close-up assessment I decided that it wasn't worth wasting a round on an animal that was clearly so close to death, and besides I didn't really want to disturb the countryside with a loud bang and spoil the rest of my morning stalk (famous last words!). Simple enough matter for me to hop over into the wood, finish off the deer with a quick stab to the atlas joint, and then be on my way.
First I opened rifle bolt and left the gun safe, leaning against a tree, together with my sticks and backpack (containing basic first aid equipment). Climbed over an old gate into the wood (to get to the same side of the fence as the deer), and also had to negotiate another old broken down fence (hold down barbed wire and step over).
Placed foot on neck of deer, but with its head craned back I couldn't quite access the vital spot, so grasped it's ear with my left hand to pull its head round.
And then, somehow, my knife failed to find the right place. Why, I don't know. At this point I was already planning ahead the next stage of my stalk, and not really paying attention to what I was doing. The blade slipped sideways (towards me) off the back of the neck, and with all the force intended to plunge my knife through its hide and between its vertebrae I instead stabbed the hand that was holding its ear.
No pain, just a blow to the hand and a vast amount of blood (which it this stage I didn't appreciate was all from me and not partly from the deer), and as I was wearing gloves I couldn't tell quite what I'd done. Peeling back the glove resulted in a serious outpouring of blood which I tried to staunch but couldn't.
First thought was to finish off the deer, which I did with a simple throat cut, and then try and get back over the fence and gate, which took a while. Was getting dizzy by this stage, and worried about blacking out. Tried to make a phonecall, but either no reception or no answer, I forget which.
Nothing in the first aid kit that was up to the job of stopping the flow, but had half a roll of toilet paper in my bag so a I wodged a big pad of that tight over the wound and held it in place by pressing against my thigh, leaving my right hand free to try (unsuccessfully) to unload my rifle and to get my backpack onto one shoulder. Then, using my right hand to try to grip the left tight enough to stop the bleeding I walked the half mile or so back to the yard where I'd left my vehicle. Luckily there were people there. Managed to get rifle unloaded with help, and someone bound up my hand tightly in blue roll and fed me on chocolate. Got a lift to the small local hospital, covered in blood and mud, leaving rifle in car (keys hidden nearby) and taking bolt, ammo and knife.
They couldn't deal with it, so had to transfer to another hospital a few miles away. But I'd left my wallet in the pickup, so no cash for taxi or bus.
A quick call to my long-suffering mate @pendle, who has stalking nearby, soon got me arranged with a lift from another local stalker.
Meanwhile, my son collected my wife from home and drove her the 60 miles to where the pickup was parked, and she then drove it over to join me at the hospital. This meant that she was technically "in possession" of my rifle for a while, but needs must sometimes. And besides, I had the bolt and ammo.
Eventually, the 2nd hospital decided it was beyond their capabilities, hence why I'm now in a third. And I'll be back here again in a day or two for an operation on my hand.
A couple of humorous anecdotes from my experience over the past 2 days:
Shortly after arriving at the first hospital, looking pretty worse for wear, an aged nurse who looked like she should have been pensioned off years ago, came over to ask me if I'd come to give blood! I told her no, but that if she cared to wring out my sodden trousers she could have quite a lot.
In the second hospital, there was some discussion about whether I would go home overnight or not. I explained that I really ought to go to take my rifle home and lock it away, at which one of the nurses said "couldn't you just bring it in here and clear this waiting room for us?".
I did tell her that, joking aside, I could quite legally bring it in with me if that became essential for its safe custody. I pointed out that, being in a hard case, everyone would just assume it was a clarinet. She looked at me, covered in mud, bloodsoaked clothing, and said "you don't look much like a clarinet player".
That made me laugh......You wouldn't believe how often that idea popped into my head over the years......as you survey the shambles that is an A&E (or ER to use the modern parlance!).In the second hospital, there was some discussion about whether I would go home overnight or not. I explained that I really ought to go to take my rifle home and lock it away, at which one of the nurses said "couldn't you just bring it in here and clear this waiting room for us?".

Mouse looks like your in charge of the larder ,prep room, sheep, deer etc.You are a silly Sod. I guess my "to do" list will be even longer than usual when I'm home in a few days!
Not something I've ever had a problem doing, but with familiarity comes complacency and I guess that was my undoing. It has certainly proven interesting this time!I'm amazed in the circumstances described that your attention was elsewhere - the few times I have used a knife to despatch it has always proved "interesting".
You're going to have to help me make your Christmas present I'm afraid.You are a silly Sod. I guess my "to do" list will be even longer than usual when I'm home in a few days!

You can build such a kit but it’s the ability of dealing with the trauma and what kit when an event occurs hence why a 1 day FAW or 3 day is enough whilst waiting for crew to arrive.you would think one of the shooting organisations would offer a first aid kit for sale covering the activities of the membership to include knife and gunshot injuries. Or is such a kit available?
Don’t worry too much - sepsis flow chart is really designed to catch all. NEWS2 chart can diagnose you as ?sepsis with a bang on the head and opening your eyes (score of 3 - consider sepsis) only to voice!My partner is a paramedic. Somehow I've made it into my 50's without being unduly concerned about the odd cut or scratch to my hands etc. Through her line of work I'm now very concerned because of the number of patients she tends to with sepsis. There you go, something else to worry about![]()
Actually, for all my banging on about 'complacency' almost the same thing happened to me a couple of years ago. I was trimming sheep feet, and had hold of a back legs in one hand, with the shears in the other. The ewe kicked, and my left hand ended up impaled on the blade. I almost passed out rinsing it, but stupidly decided it could do without medical attention. Two years later, the nerve damage is still apparent. Glad you were more sensible than I was!The blade slipped sideways (towards me) off the back of the neck, and with all the force intended to plunge my knife through its hide and between its vertebrae I instead stabbed the hand that was holding its ear.

My father was first aid party during his brief (2 weeks) stint into Normandy, 8th June 1944. Unfortunately his bandages, and those of his colleagues were unable to help very much when he got peppered by shrapnel after a mortar shell exploded nearby. That was the end of his war. Anyhow, a little while later he is back home and helping shear sheep by hand at a local gathering. One of the old boys, struggling with a feisty sheep, managed to stab himself with the shears. There was little they could do as it was into his liver, hospital was 40 miles away, and a digger was doing some road repairs en-route. He bled out and died despite my fathers best efforts. Moral of this story is that when I shear I always ensure that the animal is trussed up and disabled, with 3 legs roped tightly together. I have visions of that incident in my mind almost as if I was present at the time.Actually, for all my banging on about 'complacency' almost the same thing happened to me a couple of years ago. I was trimming sheep feet, and had hold of a back legs in one hand, with the shears in the other. The ewe kicked, and my left hand ended up impaled on the blade. I almost passed out rinsing it, but stupidly decided it could do without medical attention. Two years later, the nerve damage is still apparent. Glad you were more sensible than I was!
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Those celox gauze bandages look like a good idea, but they seem to be quite expensive, any idea what the general expiry date might be on them?I wish you a speedy recovery. And thanks for the reminder to us all: we work with sharps, often solo, and being reminded of the risk that poses is invaluable.
A relatively minor with a knife a while ago gave me pause to think what I might have done if the nick was more severe.
So...in the zipped pouch at the back of my bino case I carry a Celox Z-fold bandage. It is tiny, but has the capacity to staunch blood loss that direct pressure cannot. I do hope I never need to use it, but it weighs almost nothing and is always on my person [not in vehicle].
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