Still newlywed in October of 1994, I was resharpening a broadhead that was mounted perfectly on a Cedar shaft. I was sitting at my kitchen table using a file to try and remove a slight imperfection in the blade. I was holding the arrow in my left hand and using my right thigh as a platform of sorts. The nock and feathers sticking out behind me, under my left arm. I was wearing blue jeans.
My beautiful bride was fussing over dinner and moving back and forth behind me. At one piont, her clothes snagged the nock of my arrow ever so slightly, causing it to lift a bit and thrust forward. The ENTIRE Zwickey Delta dissappeared into my right thigh. The ease with which it penetrated was simply awe inspiring, and the total lack of pain was appreciated.
I calmly grabbed an identical arrow to get an idea of how far it was in my leg. Pretty much just the head was buried. Even though one side was just rough sharp, the other side was "scary".
Blood flow was instant and impressive.
I made it to the bath tub, carefully holding the
arrow to prevent it from moving. I removed the arrow, and then my pants. I let it bleed a bit to help clean it, and then applied pressure to curtail the bleeding. If I held pressure, it would stop bleeding, if I relaxed the pressure it would bleed...if I moved at all, it would GUSH.