Nothing like TupperWear

A co-worker of a friend spent the better part of a week in and out of the hospital visiting his unconscious ten-year-old son, who had been hit by a van on the way to school.

Using the information from the detailed police report, the doctors had concluded that the boy had a 20% chance of survival: the distance he was found from the end of the skid-marks was enormous, and it was clear that he had landed head-first.

Following standard procedure in such circumstances, the hospital kept the boy "under", and decreased his body temperature to reduce the inevitable brain-swelling. And though the swelling was delayed for a couple of days, the experts assured the father that it would arrive eventually.

On his way home from the hospital, the father noticed an unpleasant smell in the car. Upon investigation, the smell was determined to be coming from the boy's knap-sack, which the father had recovered from the hospital on his first visit. Inside the still-zipped knap-sack was the remnants of the boy's lunch, including a large Tupperware container. On closer inspection, the father discovered that the container used to be filled with sliced watermelon, which was now distributed over the insides of the knapsack. The thin dividers inside the Tupperware were also crushed.

With the smelly evidence covering his hands, the father ran back into the hospital and presented the watermelon container to the head doctor. Upon seeing the indentation in the fruit, the doctor exclaimed, "that's [the shape of] his head!" The knap-sack had clearly flown faster than child, but since its straps were around the boy's arms, it had rotated up and over his head, interposing itself between the cement road and the boy's head. The watermelon-in-the-Tupperware was an ideal (if one-shot-only) crash helmet!

After consulation with the entire medical team, the decision was made to elevate the boy's basal temperature to normal overnight. The next morning, the child awoke and appears to be in perfect mental health.

True story.