I was dismantling an old Ford Granada (one of the big boxy ones)
with my brother, about 8 years ago, for banger racing. I was a bit mechanically minded, but weedy, and my usual jobs were "hold this, fetch that" tasks.
This time we were swopping out the steering rack, so it was my job to sit in the car and hold the steering wheel whilst my brother disconnected something in the engine bay.
Those old Granadas were heavy beasts, and thus had a nice big steering wheel on it (to help the gearing), and this is connected to the front by a fat metal bar (about the same thickness as a scaffold pole.)
Distracted by the stripped-out interior of the car, my attention wandered, until my bro unscrewed the bolt connecting the steering column to the car, and the whole wheel and column (a good 15-20kg) dropped into my lap. In one swift move, my dear old bro then pushed the bar forward, back, forward, back, wrestling the column out of it's mounting until I gained enough awareness of the world outside the sharp white universe of pain, to scream. All in all I suffered about six blows to the plums in 10 seconds.

In Poland they laugh at the length, until I point out inches are 2.5 times bigger.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Thu 13 Jul 2006, 22:18, Reply)