As I have said previously, my Brother, what can I say, he was the main reason we had frequent trips to A&E, to say the boy has 9 lives is bloody understatement but he does however have the constitution of a proverbial Ox. Suffice to say he was known by his first name by the nurses and doctors at Cardiff Royal Infirmary and my sister and I knew where the children’s play area was and would make an automatic beeline for it upon arrival as mum ‘booked’ my bro in.
I shall only recant a few of his trips but I can tell you if he went bald you would see his head looks like a snakes and ladders board. He visited the hospital on such a frequent basis that at one point Social Services popped their head in, obviously nothing to worry about as all the medical staff could vouch that my bro was just an accident prone unlucky kid, as case in point;
Near to where we lived was a small wood and the local youth club decided that to entertain the kids they would erect an ‘Adventure Playground’ which included but not limited to various rope swings, climbing nets and frames and of course the infamous rope pulley, my brothers nemesis.
It was a sunny Saturday and we were all down at the Adventure Playground enjoying the various activities and my brother decided he fancied a go on the rope pulley. This consisted basically what today we would call a zip line, spread between two tall trees but the drop not so high that a fall would break bones. So up the ladder he climbed, waited his turn and was beaming like a cat when it came to his turn. The adult supervising placed the rope handles/loops around Bros wrists and told him not take his hand out but keep both firmly in the loops.
No prizes for guessing what he did next, yep you guessed it, he pushed off and within seconds hand one hand out and was waving to me and my sister doing a fab impression of a monkey and that’s when his good luck ran out. Suddenly all we saw and heard was a scream and shouting and suddenly Bro’s other hand was free and he was falling to the ground. The thud at which he hit the grounds was stomach churning and obviously myself and his sister were off running to wards him as he hit.
When we got to him he was conscious, winded but conscious and waving his hand at us saying a wasp had stung the back of his hand and that’s why he let go of the pulley. As he sat waving his swollen hand at us all we could look at was less that 2 feet from him was a tree/bush stump sticking out of the ground and had he hit that it would have impaled him and most probably killed him but him being so focused on his hand he didn’t appreciate how close he came to serious injury. We got him up and myself, sister and one of the workers trudged home and told mum all about what happened and off we went to A&E for xrays as by the time we got home he was still having problems breathing.
After that we were not allowed to go to the Adventure Playground but trust me that didn’t stop my bro, not by a long shot.
His most memorable and lucky near death escape is when he went and called for his friend, we will call him Billy, and off they went exploring and wound up on the farm that was at the edge of our estate. Now I can tell you all of us kids tormented the life out of that famer, yes the immortal words of ‘GET OFF MY TRACTOR’ were bellowed dozens of times and of course it was my Bro that finally got the kids to listen.
Bro and Billy got to one of the fields on the farm and after doing a reccy discovered the Farmer was nowhere to be seen so over the wall they went making a beeline for the tractor that was parked near the middle. Obviously being two young lads they climbed up and went into the cab and treated the whole thing like a climbing frame. Billy was pretending to drive in the cabin and my bro decided to climb over what was attached to the tractor…a bloody rotavator!!!!!!!
As per Bros sh*thouse luck, whilst navigating across the mechanics of the rotavator he promptly slipped and quick as a flash he was down amongst the blades hitting his head on his way down. Bro knew he was hurt and was screaming Billy name so he could go and get help but there was a spectacular flaw in his attempt to get help – Billy was deaf so his calls literally fell on deaf ears.
Eventually Billy turned round, saw Bro bleeding and between the blades and promptly jumped out of the cab and legged it home. Thankfully he had the good sense to raise the alarm and tell his mum what had happened. She in turn made her way to our house to tell my mum. Next thing we knew mum was calling over the neighbours wall asking her to keep an eye on myself and my sister, grabbed her bag and was out the front door, as she turned to start running up towards the farm low and behold there was my brother walking towards her holding his head and his face and hands covered with blood apologising for going to the farm but he had he banged his head and it hurt. Off to A&E once again, stitches once again and a right royal rollocking when he got home.
Not long after they got back to the house the Farmer knocked the door to check to see if bro was ok and to apologize. Slightly bemused mum said there was no need and she made bro apologize to the farmer and promise not to hassle him again. Its at that point the farmer told her that he had left the keys in the tractor and had Billy turned them then …….well suffice to say bro would have been chopped liver, she just went pale and then turned to look at my bro, grounded him and sent him to bed. Word went out across the estate and the fear of god was put into all the kids about the dangers of climbing on tractors.
