I posted about my son’s in-flight emergency almost exactly a year ago. Thankfully, all his flying this year has been trouble-free.
Here’s a link.
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Holy cow Count, Ya mean there’s another East Oregonian on the Dope!?:eek:
We’re such a rare breed I thought I was the only one!
I never had much contact with the Rajneeshies myself, but a good friend of mine once thought it’d be great fun to run the Bhagwan’s Rolls Royce off the road. Unfortunately said friend worked for the BLM and was driving a marked government truck at the time. He got in a lot of trouble, but I don’t think he minded too much. Said he’d do it all over again.
SeldomSeen in rural Malheur County
I’m so glad I found this thread again after reading it this morning. I found the one from before where you posted this and wondered if I was having deja vu or crazy or maybe saw it on reddit.
I posted this several years ago, so here it is again:
I almost died this afternoon- or, at least, I came uncomfortably close to doing so.
With all the rain we’ve been having here in Texas, lately, I figured Barton Creek would have a good bit of water… so, after work, I picked up the dogs and drove down there. After hiking down to the creek, I found that yes, it actually had quite a bit of water- it was really flowing.
So the boys and I hiked down to Twin Falls- it’s about the best-known swimmin’ hole on the creek. The water was so high that technically it was three falls- the two main falls were going full blast, and the larger, more sporadic cascade was also going. Normally, this time of year, it’s bone dry down there- but today, the main pool was at least twelve feet deep.
So, I took the boys off leash and walked over to the cliff- and then jumped in. To my surprise, Two-Tone, my Australian Blue Heeler mutt, dove in after me. I was really surprised- he may not be smart, but at least he’s brave.
I could tell immediately, though, that he was having problems- the boundary point between the twin falls and the overflow channel has a lot of eddies, and he was stuck right between 'em. He kept getting sucked under- so I stroked over to him, ducked my head under water, grabbed his butt, and shoved him towards shore.
Unfortunately, while this got him out of the boundary point hydraulics, it put me smack dab in the middle of it. Plus, I was now underwater- and I suddenly realized I was still wearing my Tevas. The sandals essentially turned my normally quite hydrodynamic feet into bricks- I kicked as much as possible, but I couldn’t get any purchase on the water. My upper torso was caught in the aeration from the falls- the bubbles meant that the water was basically frictionless to me. I couldn’t pull myself up through it.
I was effectively stuck, about three feet below the surface and above the water, hovering in place.
Normally, I can hold my breath about 45 seconds to a minute, and I’ve never had any problems with rapids- I just hold my breath, sort out where I am and where I need to go, and calmly make it happen. Normally, that is.
When I’d ducked my head under to shove Two-Tone out of the hydraulics, I hadn’t had a chance to take a complete breath- I only had a few more seconds of air. To make matter worse, the sandals I was wearing were notoriously difficult to take off- between the snap lock and the velcro, there was no way I’d be able to slip them off before I drowned.
Okay, so the feet are completely useless. No problem- my feet are rather small, so I don’t normally rely on them when I swim, anyway- I get most of my pull from my arms. I knew which way to swim to get to the closest edge of the hydraulics- luckily, I hadn’t gotten turned around in the eddy.
I pulled once, really hard, in the direction I needed to go. I could see clearly through the water- I was still about two feet under. I pulled again, with my lungs burning- and, for the first time in my life, I started to panic when I realized I was still too short. I’ve NEVER panicked in water before- I’ve always been rather proud of the fact that water holds no fear for me.
My mouth started to open. I couldn’t help it. I felt the water start to trickle into my mouth- and then my head broke the surface. The unstable water at the boundary point had shifted, giving me just enough force to get my head above water. It’s a good thing, too- I was completely useless. There was nothing left; fighting the current without a deep breath, first, had completely exhausted me. I let the water carry me to the shallows about twenty feet downstream, and I sort of collapsed onto a shoal of river rocks.
I’m still feeling weird about all of this. I’m going back there tomorrow, because I don’t want to be afraid to get into the water- you know, the old “climb back onto the horse you just fell off of” deal. I’ve always felt at home in the water- I’m not going to start fearing it, now.
You can bet I’m going to take the Tevas off, first- and Two-Tone’s gonna stay his ass on the shore.
Gleena, while mine wasn’t a situation where I felt near-death, this happened to me. Had I not known how DVT presents, the Doogie Houser-like ER doctor would have discharged be with a torn muscle. I told my wife before we got to the hospital what the problem was, and sure enough…ended up a DVT in my femoral vein and bilateral pulmonary emboli/infarcts. Nine days laid up in a hospital bed…ugh!
But more importantly, were you worked up for clotting disorders such as anti-phospholipid syndrome? Turns out that’s what I have, and am on life-long warfarin therapy as a result.
My contribution to the thread is that we were driving down the left lane of I-495 in Wareham, MA with my friends on the way to the beach. I was in the front passenger seat (unbelted…bad, bad me) when the right rear tire blew and we went out of control and into the median. It was surreal, but I wasn’t really thinking that there was imminent danger. I remember calmly turning to my driving best friend and watching him struggle with the steering wheel and asking “Did we just blow a tire?”
Fortunately it was in one of the rare areas where there was not only no bridge abutment, but no trees or other obstructions to speak of. We hit an emergency vehicle turn-out sideways (it was a gully-like median) and I bounced forward and to the left into the rearview mirror – breaking it off the windshield – and driving my glasses into the bridge of my nose and cutting me (but there wasn’t much in the way of blood, oddly enough). I ended up in the driver’s lap when we came to a stop (bench seats). I was the only one with any sort of injury, and it was so minor I didn’t notice until the state trooper mentioned it and offered me transport (which I declined until I got home to my own hospital).
Three times in Vietnam: once under rocket attack, once under mortar barrage, once when we thought ground troops were coming through the wire.
Capsized on Lake Victoria.
Clinging to a sweep in a river after our boat went under it and swamped. No lifejacket, of course.
Paddling a canoe across a lake in Canada. The sun was setting, the lake was very choppy, and it was only about a week after the thaw. We were in real danger of capsizing, and the water was so cold that, if we had, we never would have made it to the shore alive.
I think I’ve told this here before. We were on our way out to dinner for our 10th anniversary, to a restaurant that was a bit off the beaten track and had required us to book several weeks in advance (l’Auberge Chez Francois, for DC-area folks). The route there involved a winding country road.
Of note: it had been raining earlier in the evening but was not then raining.
As we came around a corner on a left-curving uphill bit of the road (with a bit of a drop-off to the right) we saw a Chrysler le Baron coming at us from the other direction.
I remember screaming then the impact.
Then we were at a complete standstill, looked at each other, determined neither of us was injured, and that the seatbelts in a Honda Civic will indeed stand up to a head-on collision.
We jumped out of the car and ran over to the car that had hit us and made sure they were OK - a couple of 19 year olds who were as shaken as we were. Their car had skidded on the damp pavement as they rounded the corner, causing them to lose control and go into our lane.
People talk about drugs giving them a buzz. I don’t think drugs can compare to the giddy high you get when you realize just how close to death you just came.
Speaking of “outside help”: The passenger in the other car had not been buckled in.
Until a minute or two earlier, when something in his head said “we’re getting to a windy bit of road, better buckle up”.
Somehow I don’t think he’d have walked away from the collision if he hadn’t listened to that voice.
The first time I thought I might die was when I was fourteen years old and in the company of an older guy who was willing to buy beer for me from time to time. He wasn’t a law abiding citizen by any means; he was a petty criminal, to be honest. Anyway, he went into this joint to buy the beer and almost immediately came back through the door, running like a race horse for the car where I was waiting. Behind him was another guy with a gun in his hand. My older buddy was not running away from the guy so much as he was running towards his car, where his own gun was waiting under the seat. He jumped in the car, grabbed the gun and turned to face his enemy just as the enemy arrived at the car. My friend stuck his gun in the other guy’s chest; the other guy stuck his gun in my friend’s face and there I sat, fourteen years old and terrified. I was convinced I would die in the cross fire, but the two guys cursed and blustered and threatened each other before they slowly backed away; the other guy went back into the beer joint and my friend drove to another one, bought the beer and took me back to our home town. His only comment was to tell me not to mention the incident to anyone and I didn’t for several years. I never did learn what it was all about.
Oh, and my other time: age 11. Woke up early (summer vacation, WTF???). Went back to bed. Slept an hour or so.
Woke up.
Could. Not. Move. I knew I was dying.
Finally managed to make a noise on exhaling, and that broke the spell or something.
Scared the crap out of my mother as I stumbled out into the kitchen, sat down, and burst into terrified sobs.
In hindsight and knowing more about sleep issues, I know know this was a bout of sleep paralysis and not dangerous. But at age 11, well, it was one of the the two most frightening moments of my life (I didn’t have time to be scared during the collision).
Frightening time #2 was just last May. Typo Knig and Dweezil were away for the weekend. Moon Unit had gone to bed. I was watching TV in my bedroom and feeling increasingly nauseous. I went into the bathroom and sat down, thinking that maybe something needed to go either “north” or “south”.
Then the room started to gray out and I started swaying and nearly fell down. All I could think of, beyond “ohshitohshitohshit” was that I was going to pass out, no way to call for help (Moon Unit wouldn’t have heard me through 2 closed doors and the TV noise), and no way to be found until the following afternoon when the guys were due home (the kids know better than to bother us when we’re sleeping in on the weekends).
Then the room stopped going black. I broke out into a cold sweat and got a bad case of the shakes, but was able to walk and the nausea finally passed.
I checked all the symptoms, and not comforting: they pretty well matched “heart attack”. They also matched “syncope” too, and they had passed so I assumed it was not actually a heart attack (though I went to the doctor ASAP to be sure).
I’ve posted about my major car crash before. The short version is that my car ended up concertinaed and I was cut out of it. Had I not been wearing a seatbelt, I would not be alive today.
I don’t know how to link to a specific part of a page, so here’s the cut & paste…
I have two. I was inches from being killed and eaten both times. I think.
When I was 12, my grandparents and I were camping in the Okefenokee swamp in south Georgia. As happens at campgrounds, the kids find each other and go off exploring or searching for some entertainment. They had a nature trail cut through the woods on the other side of the boat basin where a huge alligator lived, and we decided to check it out.
As we walked around the basin, we spied an alligator lying still, facing the bank, about 2 feet out. The bank was elevated about 3 feet above the water, but sloped gently for a few feet. Geniuses that we were, we threw pebbles, sticks, and other small items to get a response from him, but no luck. Deciding to continue our trek, we started to leave, but not before I spit in his direction. My spit landed right by his eye, and he exploded out of the water, mouth gaping, and attacked. I turned to run, but my foot slipped and I fell to my knees right there in front of the gator. It was at that moment that I realized I would die an awful death that my grandfather had warned me about not 20 minutes earlier. “You see a gator, you walk the other way and leave him be”.
I did my best Roadrunner feet-spinning, high-speed getaway and avoided being eaten. I didn’t know then ( I wasn’t looking) but he wasn’t chasing us/me. He was just doing what annoyed alligators do. They may call it a bluff charge, but I totally bought it!
You would think a few more years of life experience would make me smarter, but this was not the case.
At age 20 or so, I was in Cancun with friends, and staying at a hotel on the lagoon. One afternoon I had some time alone, so I decided to go snorkeling in the lagoon. I’m a SCUBA diver and strong swimmer, so snorkeling in 12 feet of water alone didn’t seem problematic at the time. I was heading back in, but probably 200 yards from shore when barracuda 1 showed up. No biggie. I’ve seen them before, and they generally show no interest in divers. I splashed at him & he left. He brought back barracuda 2 and 3 to see the foolish tourist.
I splashed and yelled at them and they left, being the big sissies that they are.
It wasn’t long before the gang showed up again, with re-inforcements.
They all just kept pace with me, getting within inches now and then, but would run when I made noises and splashes.
For about 20 seconds. Then they came back. By the time I was 50 yards from the beach, I had about 7 or 8 barracuda with me, some of them much larger than me, and I was full-on crying like a baby in my mask. I couldn’t believe my stupid luck; I knew with 100% certainty that one of them would take a plug out of me at any second, and that would be that. I would die from blood loss (or worse) within sight of my room in 12 feet of water with no one around to see or hear me.
Damn it!
Somehow I was spared, and made it to the beach, crying as I pulled myself onto the sand.
Both events brought me the absolute knowledge that I would be savagely and painfully attacked, and that my death was only seconds away, and that my friends, scares the ever-living Jeebus out of anyone!
Also:
Been run over on my motorcycle. Bad.
Shot at a couple of times as a cop.
Almost crashed an airplane.
Had a tree whip my chainsaw out of my hands and nearly into my face.
And Ducati’s number 1 NDE…
Told my wife it wasn’t the jeans making her butt look big!
ducati, has anyone ever told you not to poke a bear with a stick? 
Points at username. From what I learned afterwards, I was dead for 7 minutes during surgery. It was fairly routine surgery, so while I was worried, it was more about the pain and/or complications afterwards. I wasn’t afraid of dieing. I didn’t see bright lights or a tunnel. I didn’t float over my body, there was nothing of the stuff you see on TV.
The only way I knew anything had happened was because I was told afterwards. After reading all the other stories, I think I like my near death event a WHOLE lot better than everyone elses! Holy cow, you guys!!!
I know I posted this but can’t find the thread…a couple years back, I was biking back from the gym along Route 1 (major road; two lanes each way). Since I live near a university and there were tons of drunk students driving after a game, I was on the sidewalk facing oncoming traffic in an attempt to be safer and avoid the no-signal sudden right turns from the drunks.
There are a number of small stores along Route 1. I was being careful to look for vehicles pulling in/out, and I thought I saw the guy driving the Dodge Ram turn his head towards me as he got ready to enter the road. I had nearly finished crossing in front of him when I felt something slam into my back wheel and teetered…then thankfully fell into the parking lot instead of into oncoming traffic.
He completely freaked; didn’t see me, etc. I put up with the police/EMTs checking me out and walked away with the marks from my handlebar imprinted across my shoulder/chest and a few scrapes and bruises.
[quote=“SeldomSeen, post:42, topic:566397”]
So THATS where they went to next! They had bought a castle in NJ for a couple of years with secluded grounds & a huge sprawling circular drive way. After they left, the castle went through a number of hands & is now the headquarters for the Essex County Sheriffs Dept.
3 things I remember in the 2 1/2 whole minutes of my drive through:
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As I drove close to the house, an alarm went off from speakers planted in the trees warning the compound that I wasn’t a ‘member’. Almost instantly, wooden storm shutters slammed down into place over all the windows of all the buildings to keep the prying eyes of any infidel from seeing inside.
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That mob formed up pretty damn quick.
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There’s no man or woman alive who can pull off looking good in two leather sandals, one tie-died bright red robe, and absolutely no bathing.
I had just used the potty and turned to get up, then I felt this awful snap in my neck. I could feel my blood P-P-POUNDING in my throat and possibly swelling. I couldn’t move to get to the phone for the pain. I couldn’t speak for it was sort of my throat-region.
The weirdest thing. When I bent over parallel to the floor, it was like the pain and swelling was being siphoned away. Before ya know it, it was all gone. Fucking weird.
Also, the first time I tried getting drunk I tried waaaaay to much. That was probably actually much closer, although not nearly as painful.
I had a similar experience in Nags Head North Carolina, I think I was in my late teens. I was having fun riding the waves for long time, then I realized the shore was really far away and I was worn out. My family was back on the beach but there was no way to signal them, too far away and voice wouldn’t carry. I felt like I was getting pulled farther and farther out, so I got back gradually by swimming diagonally towards the shore and underwater, popping up to take breaths. I was completely exhausted when I got back to shore but didn’t tell anyone what had happened.
Well, sort of.
At age 5 or so, we were camping in the Smoky Mountains. Bear Central.
I had been playing with a large beach ball during the day. When bed-time rolled around, my mom insisted I stay in the Airstream with her & the wimmin-folk and let my dad and grand-dad use the tent.
Good thing, because when I looked out and saw 3 bears playing with my ball I headed out to get it back.
That mean old woman stopped me, and one of them popped my ball.
Ever since then, no bear has been a friend of mine. (really arcane movie reference)
Now if you find bear cubs alone in the woods, I think they’re ok to wrestle with.
When I was 33, my co-worker and I were heading home around 2 am after finishing up a shift thermal cycling a satellite at a test facility. We were traveling along east highway 17. Gas is cheaper here than in the DC metro area so we pulled into a gas station to fill up
Got back on the 17 and drove for a mile and suddenly we see two semi-trucks one passing the other and no way are we going to play chicken with these guys. We spin off into the right shoulder; then and only do we realize that we’ve driven on the wrong side of a divided highway.