By profession my dad was a plasterer. A few years after he married he had an accident. He was up on some scaffolding which was not secured properly, and as he walked out along the plank, it tipped up like a see-saw.
He fell with legs splayed, and he was hit between the legs by a tressle. He fell to the ground, and the plank that he had been walking on, tipped over and came crashing down and hit him on the skull.
He was taken to hospital with a fractured skull. There was internal bleeding from his brain so they bored two holes in his skull to let the blood out and relieve the pressure.
While in hospital the insurance company visited my mother and persuaded her that since most likely he was going to die she should take a lump sum of money to cover the accident instead of a life long compensation. It made more sence since he was going to die anyway. He did not die, and he had to live with his disability.
He never worked as a plasterer again. He said it was because he had developed a fear of heights. He combed his hair forward to cover the holes that had been bored in his head.
He often remarked that the silver plate they and put in his head to seal up the holes was probably worth more than the money the insurance company had paid him.
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