"Damn, that's gonna leave a mark! Did it split or just bruise; only one way to find out?"
I was still conscious; that was good. I could swim to the surface meaning I wasn't paralyzed; that too was good. I had a gaping hole in my head from which I was pouring a large quantity of my precious blood; that wasn't so good. "Hey Pel, you got a Band-Aid?"

I made my way across the river towards a rock that I could see clearly would make a nice pillow while others ran for medical supplies, water jugs, and cameras. My face was rather bloody by that point and I felt it a good opportunity to wash, so I dipped it in. Pel thought I was a nut, but I felt clean. Oh well. It ruined a great shot for the photographers; instead of my entire face being covered with blood only a nice little stream ran down my forehead, over my nose and cheek, and off into the mighty Brazos. Out came the rags and soon I became an American river sheik -- the first of it's kind. The next few moments didn't concern me so I sat in a boat as Pel, Joel, Dusty, and Ric battled out what would happened. I waited and finally we set out for help. Little did we know how close it was.

"Hello, is anybody here? Oh, hello...umm. we've had a little accident."

"Damn boy, what you do."

It's not really important what I said here because I'm telling you the story now, but if you would like to know re-read everything prior to this.

Now quite simply, I don't recall everything that led up to the next major part of this. I remember retelling the story, saying my neck hurt, being sat down in a chair, then being forced to sit in a rather uncomfortable position with my neck propped up in an old ladies hands for about thirty minutes while an ambulance was called. We talked about emergency procedure, scouting, economics, country life, and the fact that I was indeed a lifeguard. Actually, I didn't do much talking due to the fact that C-collars are incredibly uncomfortable. In the time it took for the ambulance to arrive a kind elderly gentleman drove home and back, returning with a backboard. I have to say it is in fact the most uncomfortable thing I have ever been on. **Please note that everything here was relatively uncomfortable.

Alas, the ambulance came, but the backboard remained and became progressively more.. well, you know. I was given pure oxygen which I hoped would have been more refreshing than it was. The paramedic kept asking me the same questions over and over, I'm guess he didn't have much on his mind. I tried to get some much needed sleep, but the road was bumpy and my heels were rubbing viciously against the backboard. The ride was rather monotonous; same questions, same rubbing, same tickled nose.

The hospital was air conditioned and I was wearing a tank top and some swim trunks. In short, the shrivel factor was high. However, I finally got off the backboard. I sat there for about an hour before I was x-rayed and stitched up some time later. In the interim Pel, Dusty, and Joel made occasional visits to see me, as if it would be the last time. I guess insecurity runs high in the hospital, my pulse was not. I met a nice drunk man who had passed out due to heat exhaustion. He didn't have a lot to say and that was okay because who want's to tell their story again? After quite some time, I'm not sure how long exactly, I was free to go and since it was getting late we (the boys and I) enjoyed a Dairy Queen dinner. It was a genuine treat, really.
The rest of the night consisted of driving back to the canoes and paddling back down the river, like nothing every happened. We were tempted to stop at a couple of the campsites we saw for various reasons other than there were no scouts, but we didn't and about 9:30pm we arrived with a grand, "Turn the fucking light off!" from Joel. I was amused for the next hour by telling and retelling my story before finally retiring to bed. The rest is history.