I know what you’re saying…. “How the heck could Incredipete possibly write an entry if he has a bullet wound to the head?!”
Well, the long and the short of it is, I could write an awesome entry with half my brain tied behind my back. That, and the wound is superficial. And self-inflicted.
Yes, I injured myself yesterday at the shooting range in a spectacularly unique and unrepeatable manner.
You see, it all started when I chose my Beretta 96 as my qualifying gun for the Kansas Concealed Carry. In Kansas, as in many states, you have to take a day or two of training, and pass a shooting test. I suppose it’s a good idea to only give permits to people who can shoot… even if it is a silly test.
In Kansas, you have to shoot 25 rounds at an FBI Q target, and 18 of the 25 have to pass on target. It’s not a terribly difficult test, but I still wanted to be prepared, because if I don’t pass the first time this Wednesday, I have to wait 5-6 months for the next open slot to try again.
I had to choose over a month ago which handgun I would be using on the range test. I have a S&W 5906 9mm, a Beretta 96 .40 cal, and a Ruger P345 .45acp. At the time I chose the Beretta, it was my most accurate of the 3. Or rather, I had the most practice with it. In retrospect, it would be a lot easier to pass the test with the Ruger, but it’s already too late.
So every chance I’ve gotten this past month, I’ve gone to the range with 100 rounds, 4 Q targets, and my Beretta.
Last night was no exception. I went into the range, shot one target… scored 24 out of 25… at 30 feet. I put up the second target, shot about 10 rounds, when I felt a searing, unbearable pain near my temple.
Naturally I reached up to see if there was blood, and to my surprise, there was a brass casing wedged between my safety glasses and my head. It had ejected from the gun, bounced off the wall of the booth, and lodged perfectly in such a way that I couldn’t get it out. I tried in vain for about 10 seconds, hollering and cussing. I could feel my skin burning off. I tried to get the glasses off, but they were being held down with the headphones, which I couldn’t take off because there was live fire going on two feet away. I finally pried my glasses off, and the 400 degree brass shell finally fell to the ground.
I decided it was a pity to waste a good target, so I went ahead and finished shooting. There was a police officer in the observation room, and when I came in and took off my headphones, he looked at my head and said “Ouch. That had to suck.” He was right. It sucked.
I drove myself to the Walgreens to get some burn cream, and that numbed it a bit. I asked the pharmacist what I should use to keep it from blistering, and she laughed…. “Hun, there’s no way it’s going to blister… there’s no skin left…”
Yeah. Ouch. Check it out.