Aa
Near Death Exprience
It Could Be Just Me
Headline: Local Columnist Nearly Killed By Dead Fish
Deckhead: Sturgeon Wins 2nd Round TKO
I have this eerie propensity for having the most mundane things turn into high adventure.
This has given me a life filled with excitement and my mother to go prematurely gray-haired and to tremble in fear any time I am more than 12 feet from her direct line of sight.
It all started a couple of days ago when I went sturgeon fishing and actually caught a sturgeon. The shock of my being successful was almost more than my system could handle.
Sturgeon fishing is by and large mostly an excuse to get out on a beautiful river, in this case the wide and mighty Columbia, plunk a big wad of bait out into the water, and very energetically do nothing the rest of the day. Especially for yours truly, who has a truly awe-inspiring ability to not catch any fish.
Imagine my surprise when I reared up my pole at what appeared to be a nibble and set the hook into a four foot long sturgeon that was apparently quite displeased at being drug by the lips from his fishy Scooby snack.
We argued. We tussled. We fought back and forth for quite some time about whether or not this fish was coming home with me. I won the first round.
I got home around eight in the evening with a gorgeous sunset turning the sky into artwork and feeling like I had won the lottery. I walked into my folks’ house and nonchalantly asked Dad if I could borrow a sharp filleting knife.
After describing the epic battle, I got a hand made, knife with a wicked point on its heavy blade and went out to fillet the fish.
After prepping it, I turned the fish to begin the first back cut and knelt down. My knee landed on a pair of pliers and I lurched to the side, off balance.
Somehow I fell and my hand hit the ground, with the knife landing hilt first. A split second later my face followed with my full body weight. The wicked point buried itself into my right cheekbone.
Now, it could be just me, but after removing the heavy blade I immediately had a sense all was not well. I believe it was the copious amount of blood flowing down my face that gave me the first clue. I leaped into action and moments later, towel firmly pressed to ventilated hide, I was back at the main house asking Dad to take me to the hospital.
For the first time, ever, I got the straight truth from a doctor. Holding a large syringe filled with anesthetic, the doctor looked down at me and said, “This is gonna hurt.” He was right.
I asked him if there was any way he could make me look like Brad Pitt since we were already working on me anyway. He looked at my face critically for a moment then declared, “Nope. I’m too busy tonight.” Darn.
About an hour or so later, I was released with a tetanus shot, seven shiny new stitches and some very strong drugs, which did very little except to make this seem like it happened to someone else.
It is now a couple of days later and I am working on developing a spectacular Technicolor shiner which will eventually fade, and a rather dashing looking scar, which will not.
As of this moment I have this startling resemblance to a weird cross between a Caribbean pirate and a chipmunk, yet even so, I am ecstatic.
An inch higher and I would be dead. A thinner blade, and I would be dead. In fact, there were some who were rather amazed I wasn’t dead anyway, myself included.
I guess this just goes to prove that most home accidents do indeed happen at home.
I will admit to being a bit embarrassed at almost becoming assassinated by a dead fish, and possibly nominated for a Darwin Award, but even though that sturgeon may have won by TKO in the second round, it is now filleted, wrapped and in the freezer, thanks to Jason Chappel who saved my trophy from being drug off by the coyotes.
To Scott Griggs of the Copy Depot who recently wrote me a letter asking, “Vinny, how can I become a Fish Magnet like you?” I would have to answer:
Don’t do it Scott. You can never come back from a step like that, and being a Fish Magnet is not just a job, it’s a dangerous adventure.
Trust me on this. As very nearly the first sturgeon-related fatality in Lewis County, I know this.
Headline: Local Columnist Nearly Killed By Dead Fish
Deckhead: Sturgeon Wins 2nd Round TKO
I have this eerie propensity for having the most mundane things turn into high adventure.
This has given me a life filled with excitement and my mother to go prematurely gray-haired and to tremble in fear any time I am more than 12 feet from her direct line of sight.
It all started a couple of days ago when I went sturgeon fishing and actually caught a sturgeon. The shock of my being successful was almost more than my system could handle.
Sturgeon fishing is by and large mostly an excuse to get out on a beautiful river, in this case the wide and mighty Columbia, plunk a big wad of bait out into the water, and very energetically do nothing the rest of the day. Especially for yours truly, who has a truly awe-inspiring ability to not catch any fish.
Imagine my surprise when I reared up my pole at what appeared to be a nibble and set the hook into a four foot long sturgeon that was apparently quite displeased at being drug by the lips from his fishy Scooby snack.
We argued. We tussled. We fought back and forth for quite some time about whether or not this fish was coming home with me. I won the first round.
I got home around eight in the evening with a gorgeous sunset turning the sky into artwork and feeling like I had won the lottery. I walked into my folks’ house and nonchalantly asked Dad if I could borrow a sharp filleting knife.
After describing the epic battle, I got a hand made, knife with a wicked point on its heavy blade and went out to fillet the fish.
After prepping it, I turned the fish to begin the first back cut and knelt down. My knee landed on a pair of pliers and I lurched to the side, off balance.
Somehow I fell and my hand hit the ground, with the knife landing hilt first. A split second later my face followed with my full body weight. The wicked point buried itself into my right cheekbone.
Now, it could be just me, but after removing the heavy blade I immediately had a sense all was not well. I believe it was the copious amount of blood flowing down my face that gave me the first clue. I leaped into action and moments later, towel firmly pressed to ventilated hide, I was back at the main house asking Dad to take me to the hospital.
For the first time, ever, I got the straight truth from a doctor. Holding a large syringe filled with anesthetic, the doctor looked down at me and said, “This is gonna hurt.” He was right.
I asked him if there was any way he could make me look like Brad Pitt since we were already working on me anyway. He looked at my face critically for a moment then declared, “Nope. I’m too busy tonight.” Darn.
About an hour or so later, I was released with a tetanus shot, seven shiny new stitches and some very strong drugs, which did very little except to make this seem like it happened to someone else.
It is now a couple of days later and I am working on developing a spectacular Technicolor shiner which will eventually fade, and a rather dashing looking scar, which will not.
As of this moment I have this startling resemblance to a weird cross between a Caribbean pirate and a chipmunk, yet even so, I am ecstatic.
An inch higher and I would be dead. A thinner blade, and I would be dead. In fact, there were some who were rather amazed I wasn’t dead anyway, myself included.
I guess this just goes to prove that most home accidents do indeed happen at home.
I will admit to being a bit embarrassed at almost becoming assassinated by a dead fish, and possibly nominated for a Darwin Award, but even though that sturgeon may have won by TKO in the second round, it is now filleted, wrapped and in the freezer, thanks to Jason Chappel who saved my trophy from being drug off by the coyotes.
To Scott Griggs of the Copy Depot who recently wrote me a letter asking, “Vinny, how can I become a Fish Magnet like you?” I would have to answer:
Don’t do it Scott. You can never come back from a step like that, and being a Fish Magnet is not just a job, it’s a dangerous adventure.
Trust me on this. As very nearly the first sturgeon-related fatality in Lewis County, I know this.
No joke! I got my finger trapped once by a revengeful carrot! (it was one of those mutant carrots that grow in a weird shape)
ho ho ginger you are a card revengful carrots ....lol
That is one fish hell-bent on revenge. Going vegetarian might be an option....but watch out for revengeful carrots!
You must join this user group in order to participate in this discussion.
You are reading content posted in the Story telling ,Real or Imaginary ' Group
A list of national and international resources and hotlines to help connect you to needed health and medical services.
Herpes sores blister, then burst, scab and heal.
Herpes spreads by oral, vaginal and anal sex.
STIs are the most common cause of genital sores.
Condoms are the most effective way to prevent HIV and STDs.
PrEP is used by people with high risk to prevent HIV infection.
