Husband has been a mechanic of one sort or another since he was a kid. From mini bikes and lawn mowers through cars and motorcycles he moved on to big diesel trucks and eventually ended up as a maintenance mechanic in factories.
He welds, fabricates parts, does body work, and some electrical and plumbing things. He is lucky I am not the squeamish type since he seems to always have an injury of some sort, most often on his hands.
An X-Ray of his hands reveals they are filled with bits and pieces of metal and several of his fingers have little to no feeling. It's so bad that he often has to be told he is leaving a trail of blood because he doesn't feel it when he slices, scrapes, or punctures one of his hands.
He used to plunge an injured hand into a bucket of kerosene when I first met him. He said it cleaned the wound. He's not quite so primitive now and will utilize antibiotic ointment and bandages though I am never surprised when he comes home from work with electrical tape wrapped around a finger.
He welds, fabricates parts, does body work, and some electrical and plumbing things. He is lucky I am not the squeamish type since he seems to always have an injury of some sort, most often on his hands.
An X-Ray of his hands reveals they are filled with bits and pieces of metal and several of his fingers have little to no feeling. It's so bad that he often has to be told he is leaving a trail of blood because he doesn't feel it when he slices, scrapes, or punctures one of his hands.
He used to plunge an injured hand into a bucket of kerosene when I first met him. He said it cleaned the wound. He's not quite so primitive now and will utilize antibiotic ointment and bandages though I am never surprised when he comes home from work with electrical tape wrapped around a finger.
“If you are the smartest person in the room, then you are in the wrong room.” — Confucius
