It all started with the infamous thought: "Just one more". Fatal! We all know this thought induces inevitable disaster, but Tom just couldn't resist testing it.
Having hopped out of bed at dawn and raced down the beach to get a surf in before another hard day at Gul Bude, Tom thought this most fatal of thoughts.
What followed involved a barrel, a close out, a wipeout, a board, a head and 'gallons' of blood (Tom's words).
Promptly returning home and defying his wife's advice and convincing her that it was merely a flesh wound and he'd be just fine, he headed to work.
An hour later, and after much inspection, I tended to agree with Mrs Tom and advised that maybe he should nip up to A&E and get it checked out.
Needless to say he returned with tales of nurses (male!?), pity, saline and glue.
I do admire his tenacity though; to return to work despite his injury, and being male, is truly commendable, although his head does now resemble that of a scabby mangey dog.
I hate to say it Tom, but listen to your wife in future! And remember always duck and cover!
Rachel.
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