Hello John, this is Curly G speaking on another podcast to one of my stories this one here that I’m going to read now to you. I’m just gotten to start. It’s called connected to the railway. And it goes like this Hi everyone. I just need to explain to you all that.
I first started socializing at the local pubs at the age of 16. Back in those days I would before going out to the pub I would consume a bottle of Jim Beam all a few cones, then hit the pub for the night. I guess when I when there, I would do the usual things and drink beer, party, fight, dance and chase girls.
So, this particular night, wears and I were going to the Caledonian hotel in Montag to see a band. So, the night started at my house, and we played pool in the guest room and started our usual routine drink, drinking, and me smoking. I guessed that I must have had a high tolerance of grog back then, because just after 10 we would leave, walked to the pub as a band would start at 10.30. It was probably at 1.5 km walk, but I used to walk everywhere back then so it was easy for me, even in those early even after those earlier drinks.
The Cali had some good bands on bat in the day, and there was usually a cover charge and always people on the door to collect it. My challenge was to gain entry without paying as that left me more money to buy drinks. I had a few methods to try and get in, and sometimes a person on the door would just let me in, so nine times out of ten I’ve got in for free. So, it was the usual sort of night, but one that had I had become extremely intoxicated on the time the pub was shut at 1am.
Where and I decided to walk home when we walked up past Rob’s foods to line up for people was large, as this was the local taxi ring. The service was ordinary, and it always took forever to get a can. We walked with walked or more or like both staggered on pass and resco’s garage and on to Mackenzie Street. We both then kept on walking home. J. P. Holden was on the left-hand side next to the old disused railway line that still had the tracks on it at the bottom. I was so drunk, and I was really struggling to walk. At the end of the JP Holden’s car yard, I reached out and I grabbed the fence post to prop me up and hold on to for a second or two. Accidentally, when I grabbed the post, I then lost my balance, and I fell straight down the steep hill that was about 6 foot high, and it rolled all the way down to the very bottom and I smashed into the railway lawn there and came to a stop. Ouch! Even in that state I was in that impact really hurt me.
Wes was calling me from vavas. It was pitch black to see if I was okay. I’d grown something back and started to crawl my way back up the bank through the footpath through all the weeds and brush to keep walking home. We started off again and I was really struggling with walking, and we kept saying come on, really hurry up. I was holding my left hip with my hand and was it was a bit sore and I also making me limp a bit. I said “I can’t walk mate”, and we had made it only about 10 metres to the front of Lowe’s hardware door where there was a street line. We said, show me, and I took my hand off my hip and held it out to the light. It was totally red and covered in blood, where I said shit and I turned my side to the light and my jeans also saturated in blood around my hernia. We said, give me a look and I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down my pants to see a bit of damage and my hip bone. Around it was a hog size of an orange, where the bloody hell would better get you to the hospital.
So, I put on pants back on and we head it off limping to the taxi rank on foot as there were no mobile phones to call anyone back then. It was super slow go and but by the time we got there it was about 1am. there was still a big lineup waiting for a cab. We told the person at the front of the line that we needed to the next cab as I had to go to hospital. That person was carrying pig, and she wasn’t hearing any of that. She gave his boat astray, saying that someone did the same trick to her last week, and she wasn’t falling for that again. We’ looked at me and he said show her. So, I dropped my pants in the main street and carry in the other 20 people got a look and quickly said the next cab is Curly’s. So up to the casualty, one thing hospital, which is somewhere I visit quite regularly. I think it was after 2am by then and we had to wait for the doctor and even with everything that had happened, I still hadn’t so it up much.
At 3am the doctor arrived. It was still housing with his hair sticking right straight up, looking like a big comical, but he was in no laughing mood, as he was a bit grumpy because I’ve got him out of bed. So alcohol and anaesthetic don’t mix, so it was just a wash, cut off the loose llesh and stitch up. It was a massive hole, like I said, I could clearly see inside to my hip bone, and he started sewing. At first I didn’t feel much, but I started to sober up quickly, and I think my that there was over 30 internal stitches and by the time I was dead sober as a grimace as I felt every single one of the outside stitches going in to close up.
I wouldn’t really see Bill again for a while, but that was sort of very special occasion when my second son Dylan was born at that one Thaggy hospital. Maybe he was still a bit grumpy at me because he had to ask Bill a number of times, but he agreed in the end that it was a good idea for me to cut Dylan’s cord and welcome him into the world.
So, I guess that’s another set of stitches for me to remove in a week’s time as I always pulled out my own because I tried to avoid going to the doctors as much as I could. So, we captured home and I hopped into bed for a rest in the morning I still struggling to walk and I think that lasted around a week. I had to tell mum the story she would have said, you’re stupid and then I just got on with it. The thing was that when you hit the when I hit the railway line, it was like hitting a stake on a bit of a on an amble with a hammer. My hit bone was the hammer. It was a decent scar and dink where be to remove its own and flesh. It kind of looked like a shark on it. I guess it didn’t take too long to recover and get back to the business of growing up.
Cheers, Curly G.