Was this my 4th death? Eh, I'll just say it was my 2nd, or "Pierced by a spear, he hung there in agony"

 This is a story of how I almost died.

I will set the scene for you. 

It was a summer day in the early 90's. Clinton had just taken Office. Some of the stupidity of Reaganism was washing away and right smack dab in the middle of northern Lancaster County is the village of Penryn. This glorious little hamlet features Uibelhál, a former lodging house turned glowing white fortress, overlooking sloping hills, with a beautiful south facing slope that at the time was flourishing with apple, and cherry trees, grapevine arbors, a giant elm tree, and a hot tub where my brother and I were fucking around.

Sounds idyllic, eh?

It was my favorite place to explore as a kid, and the nostalgia in the soil is as rich as the nutrient still. 

I was 4 or 5 years old. My brother, Dave, is ~4 years older than me, so he always looked after me when I wasn't finding the immediate combo of words to piss him off. 

My weirdly-shaped head with its ashen blond hair leading the way at all times has put me in to more trouble than I would like to admit. Warning: it gets not pretty.

Are you still here? Cool.

I had just jumped out of my grandparents hot tub and was running around like a loon (just like they say not to around the pool, mind you), and wouldn't you know there was a hose laying on across the sidewalk, parallel to a glass screen door...

Oh no!

Oh yes!

I tripped and went flying through the air. My left arm instinctively shot up to catch my fall. It succeeded in its task but the glass screen door was not enough to catch the pale flyer that was streaking towards oblivion. 

Dave could do nothing but watch in horror from the jacuzzi as he sees his little brother impaled upon a glass shard in my left arm, conveniently located near the brachial artery. Dave sprung in to action. He left me, bleeding, with the glass shard inside my tiny arm (hard to believe, eh?), and rushed to rest of the family who were doing roofing work on Uibelhál.

"Matt fell through the window. He needs to go to the doctor, NOW." He said in a calm, but forceful manner. 

They found a grisly scene upon their return. The blood continued to flow, but I could do nothing. I was in shock, staring at my own mortality flowing out of me, unable to even lift my own arm. My sympathetic nervous system stopping my conscious mind from unblocking the gash in my arm.

Off to Lititz Family Practice we rushed, 15 minutes by normal car ride. We probably made it in 7.

I came to. There were already stitches in my arm. 

"Hey, guys. What's going?"