fishing

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The Urdu physician with all his good ideas!


One evening my friend Jesper and I went pike fishing. We had a lot of activity during the evening and caught 11 pike's up to 3.6 kg. Later in the twilight we decided to have a few more casts before packing up. In the last cast a small pike took my surface-lure and when removing the hook what happens? Ever so often the pike makes a sudden movement, and in a split second - faster than you can say "duck" - one of the hooks was deeply planted into my left index finger. Luckily the flounder of the pike shocked the lure out of its mouth, leaving me without the pike hanging as an extension of my finger.

 
When packing our gear we napped a few quick photos of the finger with the lure imbedded. Why we had to play amateur photographers filming the finger I do not know, however we are now able to show the photo on this site. While the barb of the hook was well buried in my finger, we decided to visit the ER on the local hospital on the way home.

Arriving at the ER front desk, I mentioned that there was an international football match the next morning, why I would like to be examined quickly. Whether this comment did the trick I don’t know, but I was examined right away, avoiding the mandatory waiting period normally experience in such places. I placed myself on the bed smelling acidic from pike-slime and old fishing togs. The doctor who should do the examine being of a different ethnic background spoke almost no Danish. He had obviously never seen a fish hook, and my persistent attempts to explain about barbs and so on had no effect on him. In no time, I was stunned from elbow down, while this "doctor" stood pulling the lure. He pulled and tugged, and it was obvious that he did not understand why this little metal-rascal could stick so firmly in the finger. I was really violently treated and I feared that a second hook from the treble would end up in one of my fingers, or worse in the doctor. Facing the threat of being connected with a non Danish-speaking doctor, I told him about the fear from the other hooks. He looked at me somewhat puzzled, but I think he understood my fears. He let go of my stunned body part and fetched some adhesive tape. He now tried to cover the other hooks with the tape, in order to render them harmless. I dropped explaining him that a hook could easily penetrate a piece of office tape.

After tugging the hook a few more minutes he suddenly left the "tent" where I laid. 5 seconds later he returned with a scalpel and said in his best Danish, that he would do an incision across the finger and then 3 stitches after which I was up and running. Now the fat was in the fire, so I told him before cutting, I would need more anaesthetic. "Ok" the great doctor replied and slipped out to get a syringe with local anaesthesia. Once he was out of sight, I took hold of the hook and pushed it through the finger so that it came out approx. 1 cm from where it went in. I felt nothing since I was lamb from the shoulder down. This approach is probably the most commonly used when a you want to remove a hook, but despite strenuous attempts to persuade the doctor to do that, he ended up with the message "who is the doctor here?", said in a mixture of Urdu and some weird Danish.

Now the barb was out and I just needed a cutting nippers. I called a young lad who passed by outside the "tent". He fetched a pair of cutting nippers and in no time the hook was removed. When the doctor returned, with local anesthetic to anaesthetize an entire scout colony, he bursted out something like "nonononono" and left again. After a nice young girl washed my finger in soap-water I was ready to go.


Two days later I regained the feeling in my arm and was ready for new fishing adventures. Whether the doctor had amputated my hand at my throat I don’t know, but he was so scary. Just like the doctor in the movie "The Cannonball Run".

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