The check had been in the mail for quite some time but it was finally cashed in late May. We lost my father, the man that used to drag me out in the old V hull to fish Lake Mary first thing in the morning when I was 7 years old.
I had to do an impromptu overnighter in early June at our cottage located in Kenosha Co. to try and locate some of the paperwork from his estate and close out a joint back account. I used some fishing to pass some otherwise somber hours. First the Fox river in the evening. The water was quite high making wading difficult and I lost my footing on several occasions when getting too far from shore. Couldn't risk some of the spots in the current and as a result had some problematic casting angles. Still got a few bites on white crankbaits.
Got a massive thump on a Shad Rap next to some rocks and immediately saw a big catfish roll. It was a good channel cat made into a real brute by the current. I hoisted one of my better kitties.
Right after that pic was snapped the fish thrashed knocking me off balance. I lurched forward and my wad of keys, located in my pocket, got pinned between my hip and ribs when I felt and heard an audible *POP*. It was the sound of my rib giving way and cracking. It was jarring enough that I hastily dropped the fish back in the river and shot up to feel my rib cage for any jagged protrusions. It didn't break cleanly but it was plenty painful. I wobbled my way back to my car and called it a day.
The trama of the rib did not set immediately and I got up the next morning to pier fish Mary. The spawn was still wrapping up so I didn't really target bass. Ended up with some walleye and various panfish species.
The injury was sustained on a Thursday. Didn't really hit me fully until Monday. My entire abdominal area from the rib and wrapping a semi-circle to my spine succumbed to excruciating spasms. It felt like someone had me hooked up to some kind of electric shock machine as my side was clenching like a fist. That day was the most brutal but the six or seven days after that were pretty bad. Three weeks removed from the break and I'm on the mend. Finally was able to get out to run yesterday.
It's somewhat of a miracle my dad lasted as long as he did as since 2007, he battled heart failure, kidney failure, diabetes, and a tumor that was benign in his abdomen but could have punctured his stomach at any time. This on the heels of losing my great uncle Flo, a Cubs fan, Old Style man, and fisherman in his own right, and a high school buddy to suicide in the preceding two months. Tonight I have my second cousin's wake to attend bringing the grand total of funeral services I'll have attended in the first half of 2019 to four. Lousy year so far.
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.