Funny old thing, electrocution. I wouldn’t say I’m an old hand when it comes to electrifying experiences, but I’ve had more than enough belts from wiring than I’d prefer.
Mistake 1
We’re converting the loft in our first house.
I decide we need more sockets and I’m perfectly capable of putting in a new ring.
There isn’t an easy “Google it” solution available in those days, so I do the next best thing: consult the Reader’s Digest Complete Do-It-Yourself Manual.
I put in the new back boxes and carefully wire everything up. The cables I’ve dropped down to the fuse box on the floor below are tidily wound up, with the cut ends carefully covered in insulation tape to prevent any accidents.
I fit all the socket fronts and stand back, satisfied that I’ve done a quality job.
Boy got skills.
All that remains is to connect the wires to the ring in the loft. I decide to leave that until I’ve fitted the skirting boards and double-checked everything.
A couple of days later, I’m kneeling on the floor fitting the skirting. I reach my hand behind me while I rest for a moment and…
Oh. My. God.
The insulation tape has come away from one of the cut ends of the live cable. The shock is astounding. The pain shoots up my arm unlike anything I’ve ever felt before — and then it’s gone almost instantaneously.
My thumb is black where it touched the wires. My heart is racing. The stream of expletives I’m emitting is probably more shocking than the electricity. I’m never letting that happen again.
Mistake 2
A few years later, I’m at my mate Ash’s house.
When I arrive, he’s trying to do two jobs at once. He’s desperate to get them both finished before it rains and there are black thunderclouds looming.
I tell Ash to mow his lawn and I’ll finish putting up the outside light on his back porch. He’s already taken the old light down. There’s a dusty three-core cable sticking out of the brickwork, covered in cobwebs.
Before he starts the mower, I ask the obvious question.
“You’ve turned the power off for this, right?”
“Yes, of course. Turned it off before I took the old one down.”
Excellent. So I crack on. It’s all over before it’s hardly even started.
I reach up to clear the cobwebs from the cable. My hand touches the bare wires. Instantly, it closes around them.
My knees go weak and I crumple towards the ground. The weight of my body pulling down is what eventually detaches my hand from the cable. I sit there for a while.
Ash gets to fit his outside light himself the next morning.
Mistake 3
We’re emptying everything out of the old shower block at Mossways before building work starts.
Trailer loads of rubbish are going to the tip and the place is almost clear. There’s some old conduit running down several of the walls, so I remove all of that.
In the corner of one room is a redundant-looking wall socket with a cable trailing from it. I don’t know what makes me assume the cable is no longer live. Maybe I don’t make an assumption. Maybe there’s simply no thought at all.
I take out my side cutters. I cut the cable.
BANG.
In the small room, the noise is incredibly loud. There’s a bright flash. A breaker trips somewhere. I look down at the side cutters in my hand. The tips are gone.
Luckily, I’m holding them only by the insulated handles. No electric shock this time. Just the sudden realisation of what I’ve done — and what could have happened. That was a very lucky escape.
Three incidents
The first time, I thought I’d been careful.
The second time, I trusted someone else when they told me it was safe.
The third time, apparently, I didn’t think at all.
I’m pleased to report that there hasn’t been a Mistake 4.
Yet.