Forgive me for appearing self serving with this thread. It is not my intention to troll for words of encouragement or well wishes.
Last Saturday I fell from my roof at my home. I'm recovering and doing well but this accident is taking a bit more out of me than it would have 20 years ago.
A little background:
Over the past year, I've been busy trying to reverse some neglect on this place before listing it for sale. I replaced the redwood deck with lumber prices at an all time high. I buttoned up the final details on the shop to get a "final" inspection and now am fixing stuff on the house itself to get top dollar for the place.
I retired from construction last year since the work available shifted away from my true passion. I've always preferred residential work but the Union priced themselves out of the game. There was no way to compete with South of the border workers that willingly worked for 1/3 what I made. I figured that in retirement, I might resume some limited roles in home building again once we move out of state.
I'm still in good shape to work so I went about my normal ways and started making some changes at home. Late in the afternoon Saturday, I fell from the roof where the gutter was maybe 12 feet from the soil.
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Many of the rafter tails were rotting on the ends. The gutter was rusted in some areas. This project includes shortening the rafter tails, adding 2 x 8 fascia and new rain gutters. I've never cut or installed gutters before so I used some of the old stuff as testing patterns to get a feel for how they need to be cut at corners and seams.
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I'm learning as I go and it seems to be coming out right. I had to get creative hanging the gutters alone.
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This is a concrete tile roof so I'm able to reuse all the tiles that I need. I'm just pulling them up and stacking them out of the way, then measuring and cutting the tails to the number I'm after.
Late Saturday afternoon, I was at the point where the overhang was furthest from the ground due to the home and lot being on a bit of a slope.
Forgive the following because I'm having to piece it together but....At some point I was on the ground in a plume of dust not knowing that I fell at least 12 feet foot to soil. Add almost 6 feet to that to account for the distance to the top of my head. It is frustrating to NOT be able to remember slipping, falling, landing or any of it.
In a bit of a blur, I apparently called out to Mary who was inside the house. I must have yelled loud enough to get her attention.
Wood was piled on a sawhorse while some of it was knocked off and had blood imprints.
My tool belt was on top of the lumber stack but tools were missing from the pockets and found nearby.
The results.....Mild concussion, broken Scapula, bruised legs, waist, thighs, right upper arm.
What is a Scapula?
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Yeah....the shoulder blade.
The ambulance came and carried me away. I was in the hospital two nights and part of Monday.
Back at home, I'm still unable to positively conclude what happened with 100% certainty.
In my 36+ years of construction, I've never hurt myself like this. Yeah, I've fallen before but always popped right back up and resumed working even if I was scratched up. This time the situation maddens me because I can't remember details.