This is the most recent of all my injuries, occurring only a couple of years ago. At the time I was sort of seeing this woman called Michelle, who had two kids, a lot of animals and at the time was living in a house that in all rights should have been condemned a long time ago. We had met during a retail training course, and I thought it ironic at the time that I would meet a woman that lived on the Woy Woy Peninsula not long after moving across the bay to East Gosford.
Seeing I know a thing or two about old computers, Michelle asked me
over to see if I could get her old one working again, seeing it had
recently died on her. In return, I was to get dinner. So, whilst she
was out with her daughter Katie, her son James gave me a hand with
fixing the PC. But no matter what I did, I couldn't restore life to the
machine.
The machine, in the end, would have a chunk of me. As I tried to remove something from within the case, my hand slipped and my thumb found a sharp edge, cutting it around the knuckle. I recall the wound bleeding profusely for a minute or so, and it took a number of tissues and band-aids (which James provided) to staunch. It would seem that not even a blood sacrifice would get the old PC working again.