I already have and while it's kinda funny now, it wasn't when it happened. Pat and I were putting our outside Christmas ornaments in the attic above the sun room. I had just fixed the attic lights and considered the day a success. The next sensation I felt was crashing through the ceiling. I told Pat that we should call 911 because this wasn't your run of the mill accident. When the paramedics showed up they said "yep we're going to South West (hospital)." The paramedics were the best. At the hospital, my stall was across from a chainsaw accident. My mind wandered to a discussion about what was the dumber accident, me or the other guy. About the same time I figured out that what I really needed was a sign to hang around my neck describing my recklessness. By the time I had my second set of xrays, I knew that most people in my predicament broke their ankles and legs, so I was lucky. I give my Doc Marten's credit for cushioning my fall and protecting my ankles just enough. The doctor sent me off with the admonition to not try such a thing again and a bottle of my old friend vicoden. Irony was added to the adventure when I test drove the whirlpool tub.