Ok you butt-monkeys, here's the story:
Due to circumstances beyond my control, some areas of the ceiling in my house needed repair. Previous storm damage and extreme overuse of attic storage by the previous homeowner had caused some saggy spots (similar to.... well, never mind).
Anyway... I have been gathering supplies and preparing to make war on the troubled areas. The area in the garage was waterdamaged and had a 4ft by 18ft hole over the garage door, open to the attic. There were no openings in the kitchen/dining room, but some areas with significant sag that probably totalled around 4ft by 12ft.
This past weekend was project time, and I had guests/volunteers that many of you may know as "Strange" and "Gman". We had a fun weekend of ceiling work, shooting range, and heavy drinking planned.
Saturday, everything went according to plan! We put new sheetrock in the garage, went to the shooting range and fired literally hundreds of rounds at paper enemies, and then came back to my house for some hot wings and mucho cervesa.
Sunday, we start on the kitchen/dining area, and before we can get started on the sheetrock we have to clear off the insulation and garbage left behind by the previous owner. Strange and I are up in the attic, bagging junk and tossing it down the ladder to Gman and he's hauling it out to a giant pile of bags. In order for strange to negotiate around the tighter areas, I found a 1x6 privacy fence board. I gave him the board and he laid it across the rafters to sit and work.
We worked pretty steady for a while and Strange was moving around up there and shouting "HOLD TRUE, LITTLE BOARD!"
It wasn't 5 minutes after he said that, the little board decided it was time to become TWO little boards.
There was a crashing noise that was LOUD and seemed to last for a good 20-30 seconds. I was working right next to Strange and I saw him disappear into a vortex of sheetrock, insulation and debris. He had been sitting, so as he tumbled to the floor below, he almost looked frozen in a semi-fetal position, sideways and KA-BLAM he landed flat on his side.
He fell faster than the debris, so after he crashed to the floor, a pile of stuff nearly covered him up and buried his dead ass.
From what I saw at my vantage point, I thought for sure he was going to be bloody and needing an abulance. It looked FUGLY and he wasn't moving.
I scrambled into fat old panic mode and ran down the attic steps to see what the situation was, and he was still in a heap, with Gman lifting debris off him and helping him up.
He was initially thinking he was ok, but we waited a few minutes to let the shock wear off so he could see how he felt without the adrenaline.
A few minutes later, its off to the hospital we go!
So far the injury is only classified as an "area of suspicion" in his left wrist. It could have been SO SO SO much worse. Actually, it could have been fatal.
So here's some pics of the huge hole he made in the ceiling when he fell through (all of that was coming down eventually anyway) and the aftermath once he was removed (and the giant sheetrock pieces). Then we have a couple of shots of Strange in a drug-induced stupor, which he remains in still to this day, I imagine.
The ladder wasn't there when he fell, but there was a fondue pot that vanished for a while (we thought he would have to shit it back out) and the shelf under the microwave used to stick out an extra 8 inches but he snapped that off with some misc body part. We're thinking that when the board snapped, he fell over and hit the rafters first, then the top of the cabinets, then the microwave shelf, then possibly the countertop before landing in a restful fetal position on the hard linolium-covered concrete floor.
Tune in again next week for another exciting episode of, "Home Unimprovement".