On Wednesday I started removing the level sensor on our Discovery. Engine off, wheels chocked. Before trudging off to the shed to get the axle stands, etc., I gave the sensor connector a quick prod with a screwdriver (so see how much mud and muck there was round it) and it came apart. With a loud hiss the suspension went into an emergency mode and trapped my arm between the wheelarch and the tyre - it was now the only thing taking the weight of that corner of the car and it wasn't going to shift.
Now, I knew that would happen when I removed the connector and I had planned when it would happen; the plan included a couple of sleepers and the axle stands being in place beforehand. It didn't include a 'premature disconnection'.
If anyone else had done anything like that I would have them hung, drawn and quartered, put their carcass in a gibbet with a large 'pratt' sign above it and then shout sarcastic remarks at the rotting remains (whilst sending crows to peck out the eyes).
The result was:
Forty-eight hours later and there is not a mark on me - I am so skinny and muscle-free that there was no flesh to crush - my bone took it all. I don't like to think what might have happened if I my head had been in that gap.
They were all very nice and they commented on the fact that a) I wasn't swearing (much) and b) I apologised for not getting up or shaking their hands.
Only once did I shout "Mr Grimsdale!" when "Help!" didn't seem to be cutting the mustard.
Moral of the tale?
1) Never think it won't happen - assume it will. You'll be wrong 99% of the time but that 1% will make it worth it
2) P*ss-taking from colleagues and friends is a very strong deterrent against anything similar.
The epilogue to this tale is that yesterday I snuck out of the house whilst my wife was busy and installed the new sensor. Startled to hear the front door open (I knew I must have been rumbled) I sat up with a start and hit my head on the open rear door.
Its off to be calibrated this morning.
Now, I knew that would happen when I removed the connector and I had planned when it would happen; the plan included a couple of sleepers and the axle stands being in place beforehand. It didn't include a 'premature disconnection'.
If anyone else had done anything like that I would have them hung, drawn and quartered, put their carcass in a gibbet with a large 'pratt' sign above it and then shout sarcastic remarks at the rotting remains (whilst sending crows to peck out the eyes).
The result was:
- Two fire engines...
- One Paramedic ambulance...
- Fire chief's response car...
- One neighbour with a slipped disc...
- One neighbour with a suspected hernia...
- An offer of an air ambulance trip...
Forty-eight hours later and there is not a mark on me - I am so skinny and muscle-free that there was no flesh to crush - my bone took it all. I don't like to think what might have happened if I my head had been in that gap.
They were all very nice and they commented on the fact that a) I wasn't swearing (much) and b) I apologised for not getting up or shaking their hands.
Only once did I shout "Mr Grimsdale!" when "Help!" didn't seem to be cutting the mustard.
Moral of the tale?
1) Never think it won't happen - assume it will. You'll be wrong 99% of the time but that 1% will make it worth it
2) P*ss-taking from colleagues and friends is a very strong deterrent against anything similar.
The epilogue to this tale is that yesterday I snuck out of the house whilst my wife was busy and installed the new sensor. Startled to hear the front door open (I knew I must have been rumbled) I sat up with a start and hit my head on the open rear door.
Its off to be calibrated this morning.
