I’M ONLY HUMAN

ED Evans calls up recently, pointing out he could do with a Range Rover feature for the tech section. Ever keen to please, I set out to squeeze in a shoot showing an anti-roll bar refurbishment. Which is where I started to break my rules, and where things went wrong. Firstly, the car could have done with being on ramps. Secondly, I was rushing, but perhaps most stupidly, I was alone.

Ten minutes in, the first bolt was just getting tight on the corroded threads. Me on my back, contorted in the available space, pulling with all my might – you can guess where this is going, can’t you? Yes, the 1/2 inch ratchet and 17 mm impact socket suddenly slipped off the bolt at the point of maximum pull, and I punched my forehead with the ratchet and socket with all my might. I knew I’d hurt myself with the force, as I my probing fingers felt the wet, open slit. Had I cracked the bone? Turning to get out from under the car, the immediate flow of blood painting the floor and distinctive copper smell told me I had a problem. Alone, and realising it wasn’t wise for me to be walking far, I simply sat down, called my other half for help, pointing out “I’m bleeding” and attempted to staunch the flow of blood with an old duvet cover. Head wounds (I have since learnt) bleed like fury, and on arriving to a scene from a horror movie, my ever-patient better half confirmed my bone was okay, but instantly decreed I needed to go to hospital. She was right, of course, and I ended up in minor injuries having the 5 cm gash glued shut by our brilliant NHS. A week later as I type this, it is healing well. I’m thankful only to have a neat scar on my forehead, not cracked teeth nor broken nose as a reminder never again to break my golden rules of working on a car at home.