Hazards Of The Construction Site

I swear, if I were ever called for a career day meeting at my kid’s school, I’d have tons to speak.
Being in the construction work business is no easy business. It entails so many virtues that are fast fading
that the moment I start speaking about it, people call me snobby. The caution that must be exercised, the
instinctual actions that have to be done while operating heavy machinery are all something that can’t be
perfected just from learning from the books. But those are not the only hazards of the workplace. Ah!
Here’s one right here. I look at my finger and see a tiny splinter stuck in my finger. I shake my head, and
pull the splinter out. It is these little things that are more bugging because you don’t really see them
coming. You’d definitely see some heavy pillar falling on you- at least in the moment it is about to fall on
you, if nothing, then only by the shadow it’ll cast while falling on you. Things like these however, you
only notice when you’re about to pick something up, and it smarts. Supervisor on the spot ensures that
you have to be everywhere
As I supervise the construction of this multistoried complex and the operation of the heavy
machinery, I yell commands, recheck my prints and go round a tour of the site to ensure everything is
going as it should. I see my deputy at my work desk waiting for what I assume is my presence. As I walk
towards him, a wind blows, blowing the dust over my flowing shoulder length hair making me start the
regret meter switched on for the day for having such a long hair. I walk to the deputy, into my tent as he
points out a print. We engage in discussions while I notice another splinter in my finger. It was lodged
pretty in so I bite the skin off. It does smart a little, but I pull out the splinter. He gives me a weird stare-
half appalled and half disgusted. I shrug and we go about the entire discussion.
Before leaving, I turn to him and ask, “Hey, what are your plans this weekend? Why don’t you
come by my place? My kid sure seemed to love yours’ company. What say?” His face turned slightly
sheepish. I immediately understood he wasn’t comfortable doing that. So I just told him to come if he
could and he agreed. I turned away and was walking. For someone who exercises so much caution, I
don’t know how I missed the forklift driving my way. Luckily for him and me, I dodged at the last
moment. The fall was pretty bad though. And when I got up, brushing myself, I saw a slightly longer
splinter in my forearm. I immediately cursed myself for there was blood oozing from other scrapes as
well
My hands were stuffed with pebbles and sand. I dusted it out, pull out all the wedged in pieces and head
home for the day. My kid still hadn’t come home. Just as well. I head to the fridge to get the jug of water I
put in the fridge. While getting it back, I fall down and the jug breaks. Ugh! Such a klutz I am. The
broken pieces are all over me. I look at my hands and for the first time notice how many other splinters
were lodged in that I hadn’t noticed. And some of them were pretty deep as well. I sigh as I start pulling
them out. For those that I couldn’t I grabbed my knife to pluck them out. A minute later and I don’t know
what happens but suddenly I start feeling woozy. Oh god. I clutch the kitchen counter but I slip and my
head goes towards the……….
I slowly come to my senses to I’m being carried while I lie flat. I somehow deduce that I’m on a stretcher.
Sirens are blaring everywhere while people in white rush about. Someone push an oxygen mask on my
face. I try speaking something, I couldn’t. I look around, and there, right behind me, as they take me out,
near the kitchen counter, I see a blusih forearm lying about as if someone had died. I get scared, pull off
of my mask with my free hand, and ask them, “What about my son? Where’s he? What happened to
him?” No one replies to me. The bluish withered hand scares me even more. I grab the paramedic and ask
him. The last thing I remember before whatever it was in the mask (which clearly wasn’t oxygen) is him
looking at me funny and saying, “Sir, you have no son.”