Some weeks, finding inspiration for ideas for the next column can be a challenge. Facing such an incident of writer’s block, a topic came to mind, unexpectedly, last night as I impaled my index finger on a wet wipe lid.

Yes, you may mock my apparent over-dramatisation, but the pain was tangible and hurt 10 times more than when I broke my wrist (yet another bicycle injury) two months ago.

I, having bought some ‘end of line’ family plastic tubs of wet wipes for 10 pence a packet, proceeded to push the first wet wipe through the barbed, sharp, triangular plastic spikes as I inadvertently pushed too hard, and my index finger became lodged.

Not only that, but I could not move a millimetre back as the spikes were all digging into my finger which was now, within a few seconds, turning black and swollen as I ran from the summerhouse to the house with a wet wipe lid stuck to my digit.

Brett Ellis was in pain when he caught a finger in a lidBrett Ellis was in pain when he caught a finger in a lid Thankfully, through tears, mine of pain, my wives of laughter, she managed to pull a spike away with a knife and I freed the finger.

The mocking continued as I equated my story to the chap who got his arm stuck between a rock and a cliff some years ago and cut his arm off as I explained that was my plan B if she had not been in. Her response of “ok dear” as I slinked off to the self-pity step in the back garden was not my finest hour, but thankfully I, and the index finger, live to fight another day.

The homestead is a dangerous place. In 2021, 6.98 million people attended A&E after suffering a ‘fall’ in the home, with many attributed to DIY, followed by falling down the stairs (mainly when using an unsecured ladder) and 1.8 million visits due to ‘poisoning whilst using DIY chemicals’.

I asked friends about their mishaps: One showed me pictures of his leg after cycling at the Olympic Velodrome where, during a crash, some of the wooden flooring came loose and speared him through the leg. The pictures are a sight to behold for the squeamish among us.

Another recounted a story of a musician type who jumped on his drum kit stool after work one night, the foam gave way and the spiked metal seat bottom entered his rear with force resulting in a number of surgeries and a long time off work.

As for me, I have now retired from wet wipe usage and will risk germs as I have learnt my lesson, as I find inspiration for future columns in the most unlikely of places, including the town called Pain.

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher.