It was 10 years ago today that I shattered my friends Humerus bone.  For me, it was quite humorous.  For my friend Darryl, it was not.

Today is also the 10 year anniversary of the North American Blackout.  If you lived in West Michigan at the time, you might not remember it because you had power.  But not us Michiganders from metro Detroit, nope we had no power.  No power anywhere.  You couldn't get gas, only a few grocery stores were open, and even hospitals were running on nearly no power.

This image shows states and provinces that experienced blackouts. Not all areas within these political boundaries were affected. (Wikipedia)

Alright, enough background info, let's get on with the story.  It was a hot summer day in Farmington Hills, Michigan and me and my friend Darryl (of the greatest punk rock band in Michigan, the Hex Bombs) are on the way back from picking up a 5th of Jack Daniels from a friends house.  My parents had taken my grandmother to a hotel in West Michigan since we were going to be without power for several days.  The plan was to invite people over for a charcoal BBQ and my parent's house.  We would drink, cook, and be merry.  And hopefully when night came, we could have a sexy party with our lady friends in the dark.

Sounds all fine and dandy doesn't it?  Well, the proverbial S#$% was about to hit the fan.  on our ride home from our friends house, we encountered some construction.  While driving alongside of the construction, my friend Darryl decided it would be a good idea to stick his arm out the window.  THIS WAS A BAD IDEA!

I drove a little bit too close to one of those big ass orange barrels and Darryl's arm struck it at about 50 mph.  I could hear the bone break and then heard his limp arm smack my back window.  Darryl ripped his arm back inside the car screaming "F#$% you, Bohner!  F#$% you!"  At first I didn't notice the severity of situation and I laughed at him.  After realizing that his arm was already purple from internal bleeding and that his wrist had swollen to twice it's size in a matter of seconds, I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital.  He kept screaming obscenities at me, so I figured that meant "Yes, kind sir.  Let's head to the doctors office, post haste!"

Upon arriving at the Henry Ford Hospital in West Bloomfield I noticed that I had virtually zero gas in my tank.  I only mention this because it will cause me to practically s#$% my pants for a few minutes.  We ran inside the hospital and were rushed ahead of the line in the ER.  Darryl went back into an examination room and I waited in the ER.  About 15 minutes later, Darryl was escorted back out in a sling and asked to wait while they set up for an X-ray.

Minutes later a nurse came out with a distressed look on her face.  She was there to explain that some the back up generators had failed and that all of their X-ray machines were offline.  Due to the severity of the break, Darryl needed to be treated immediately.  The nurse suggested that we head downtown to the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit for treatment.  I explained my gas situation, but the nurse said that we NEEDED to get to a hospital with a functioning X-ray machine to ensure that the bone didn't fragment and that he wasn't bleeding internally.  I had no room to argue and they weren't offering any sort of ambulance to help.

I ran outside got in my car and pulled it around to the front of the hospital.  A nurse was wheeling Darryl (of the greatest punk rock band in Michigan, the Hex Bombs) outside in a wheelchair when I arrived in front.  My tank was on empty, the gas light was on and it would occasionally ding.  I reluctantly helped Darryl into my car and was walking around to the driver's side when a second nurse came running from the entrance of the hospital.  She was screaming "The generators are back on!  The X-ray machines are working again!."

Needless to say, we were incredibly relieved.  Darryl was treated and released that evening.  We finally made it back to my house after dark and Darryl proceeded to slip into a perfectly legal and deserved Vicodin coma (not actually a real coma.)

I invited over some friends and we drank while watching Darryl smile from the drugs even while he was probably in the worst pain of his life.  He ended up having surgery and now has a metal rod and a few screws in his arm.

Good times.