Nary a day passes when there is not something to be fixed on the boat.
Today, I had reinstall the water separator which for some reason had been bypassed by the moron to whom I had charged with removing the foam from my boat. I docked her near the Rip Tide decided to change out my fuel lines, which were aging, drying out, cracking, sucking air.
An endless stream of people came and went from the Rip Tide, a retired shrimping boat, now a bar, that takes on 3,000 gallons an hour. Locals, surfers, pretty girls in bikinis.
One last hose, behind the filter. I guess I'll just cut this one off. I took out a utility knife and sliced the hose along the flares and continued into the flesh of my left index finger down to the bone. Shit!
Blood was pouring down my arm, dripping off my elbow and coagulating on the deck as I continued to work. Gawkers gawked. "You better get to the hospital." "Ahh, they're open all night, I need to get this done while there is still daylight."
Here's my Facebook post:
I cut my finger to the bone. I was continuing to work on my boat as I had to finish my fuel lines before dark. Blood was gushing out of my fingers and dripping down my elbow pooling up on the floor of the boat. Gawkers gawked. "You need to get to the hospital."
Finally, one guy who knows me well said, "The sooner that heals the faster you can get back in the water." That did it. Off to the hospital.
I walked half a mile entered the emergency room, the front desk clerk looked at it and sent me directly to a treatment room. A nurse was there within half a minute washing and prepping the wound. As soon as he was done the doctor came in and stitched me up while the nurse asked about 5 questions, my name, date of birth, age, place of residence and my passport number.
No long list of tedious questions about former illnesses or family history of diseases, it's a cut finger. After the doctor put seven stitches into me and wrote out prescriptions, I was given a tetanus shot.
Fifteen minutes after I walked in the door, I was told I could leave. I asked where I go to pay. "Donde pagar?" The women obviously convinced that I would not comprehend her answer wagged her finger at me and I walked out the door without a charge. Not the type of hospital I would like to treat a major problem but for what it is, the service and price were right.
A friend finished off the job while I was in the hospital
Today, I had reinstall the water separator which for some reason had been bypassed by the moron to whom I had charged with removing the foam from my boat. I docked her near the Rip Tide decided to change out my fuel lines, which were aging, drying out, cracking, sucking air.
An endless stream of people came and went from the Rip Tide, a retired shrimping boat, now a bar, that takes on 3,000 gallons an hour. Locals, surfers, pretty girls in bikinis.
One last hose, behind the filter. I guess I'll just cut this one off. I took out a utility knife and sliced the hose along the flares and continued into the flesh of my left index finger down to the bone. Shit!
Blood was pouring down my arm, dripping off my elbow and coagulating on the deck as I continued to work. Gawkers gawked. "You better get to the hospital." "Ahh, they're open all night, I need to get this done while there is still daylight."
Here's my Facebook post:
I cut my finger to the bone. I was continuing to work on my boat as I had to finish my fuel lines before dark. Blood was gushing out of my fingers and dripping down my elbow pooling up on the floor of the boat. Gawkers gawked. "You need to get to the hospital."
Finally, one guy who knows me well said, "The sooner that heals the faster you can get back in the water." That did it. Off to the hospital.
I walked half a mile entered the emergency room, the front desk clerk looked at it and sent me directly to a treatment room. A nurse was there within half a minute washing and prepping the wound. As soon as he was done the doctor came in and stitched me up while the nurse asked about 5 questions, my name, date of birth, age, place of residence and my passport number.
No long list of tedious questions about former illnesses or family history of diseases, it's a cut finger. After the doctor put seven stitches into me and wrote out prescriptions, I was given a tetanus shot.
Fifteen minutes after I walked in the door, I was told I could leave. I asked where I go to pay. "Donde pagar?" The women obviously convinced that I would not comprehend her answer wagged her finger at me and I walked out the door without a charge. Not the type of hospital I would like to treat a major problem but for what it is, the service and price were right.
A friend finished off the job while I was in the hospital
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