It's bloody dangerous out there! One minute I'm blundering about in the early morning half-light/Severn Sea mist, minding my own business (well ringing birds actually), next I know I'm fighting to keep my vital signs from flatlining. Stabbed, impaled actually, claret pissing all over the shop. Luckily, being the quick-witted, always prepared-type that I am, I managed to fight the waves of nausea, dizziness and a strangely enticing vision of the reaper beckoning me to a blissfully pain-free stupor just long enough to reach for the Leatherman and, with gritted teeth and hastily jerry-rigged torniquet in place, I wrenched the stiletto-like corpus alienum from my flesh. Then it was on with the pressure dressing and I'm stuffing my face with sugary morsels to counter the effects of the waves of shock (I'm sure I experienced ventricular tachycardia and arrhythmia and probably lots of other things with long unhealthy sounding names). Thank Christ-on-his-little-Rayleigh-bike I wasn't chucked out of cubs before getting my 'extreme survival badge'; and thank God-and-all-his-evil-impish-foot-soldiers another member of the ringing group was on-hand to drive me home. I think I'm on the mend now although I might need three weeks in some sunny clime to recover properly. Go careful out there folks.
[Oops, almost forgot. Here is a picture of the splinter and another of (what remains) of my finger, warning graphic images below.]
I know, I know, I feel sick just looking at the pictures, I think there might still be something still in there.
PS. In case you haven't already realised, the birding was pretty quiet today.