Back in 91...during my three week stay after a bad gall bladder/liver/pancreas issue....my first roommate was an HVAC guy with a fiddleback wound right above his right elbow. He arrived around 11 pm...I remember clearly the orthopedic telling him that if the 1,000 buck a bag antibiotics and surgery didn’t work...he might lose his arm below the elbow. The wound was dime sized.
At 7 am next morn...right after I was given a pre op “Happy Shot” before being wheeled down to OR...in my haze of high I remember the HVAC guy say “Check this out roomie”....and my eyes fixed on what was now at least a silver dollar sized hole which provided a very nice view of his elbow joint as he flexed it up and down.
It took my mind off the 60/40 odds the bookies were laying on my survival after surgery for a minute.
His arm and I both made it through our ordeals. From that point on...I kept a very keen eye out for them.
Odd. When my pancreas exploded I ended up with a roomie who was a black widow bite recipient. He was on the mend when I left, but it was touch and go for a while.