Instead of me teaching you, let's allow Alfred (not his real name™) to be your guide.
Alfred is a normal, average 28-year old guy - healthy, gainfully employed, and not too bright. He was on his way to work one bright sunny morning when he had some car trouble. Unfortunately this did not occur on a quiet neighbourhood street, but rather on a main thoroughfare where the speed limit is somewhere between 100 and 120 kph. Alfred had a mobile phone, but instead of calling for help, he decided to get out and take a look.
I should also specify that Alfred does not work with cars or know anything about cars (as I found out later), so he should have no idea why his should have suddenly stalled. Still, out he went to take a gander.
Unfortunately for Alfred, very little makes for better drive-time ogling than a stalled, smoking car on the side of the road. One particular driver was paying more attention to checking to see if Alfred was a young lady (he most assuredly is not), and by the time his eyes got back on the road, he was too late to avoid the car in front of him, which had also slowed down to look at the smoking car. So he swerved . . . right into Alfred.
Before I go on, let's do a little thought experiment. Think of the height of an average car's front bumper. That happens to be exact height of the average man's tibia. And as I mentioned earlier, Alfred was an average guy. Now think what might happen if a car bumper were to impact a tibia at high speed, keeping in mind that the average tibia is not anywhere close to as strong as the average car's bumper so . . .
|NOT Alfred's leg
When Alfred arrived, there was a large gauze pad with a large blood stain in the middle covering his left leg. Blood outside the body is never a good sign, but even worse than blood outside the body is bone outside the body. I moved the gauze away to see the fragmented end of his tibia staring back at me. Although he may not have felt lucky at the time, Alfred was incredibly lucky that the car was slowing down when it hit him, because this was his only injury.
The police officer interviewing him in the trauma bay asked him why he got out of the car. Alfred gave some silly excuse about trying to figure out the problem, even though he admitted he knew nothing whatsoever about cars. The officer then told him that he should have stayed in his car.
"I know, officer. I know. But I just didn't want my girlfriend to think I didn't know anything about cars."
Sigh. The things we do for love.
The orthopaedic surgeon took him to the operating theatre a few short hours later where, after cleaning up the wound, he inserted a titanium rod into the shaft of the tibia. Alfred was up and walking the next day, and he walked out of the hospital the day after that.
But not before learning an invaluable lesson - when an expert gives you advice that could save your life (or limb), take it.