We'll See How Long This Lasts…

Last week featured a rather exciting event for me – my first trip to the Emergency Room as an adult patient. Here’s the story.

I was preparing some dinner. We’ve been integrating more healthy foods instead of “bad” ones. I was cutting one of my favorites – an avocado. I always halve them from top to bottom, spear the pit, pluck it out, and fling it off the tip into the garbage. It always works out fine. It didn’t that night. Instead, the portion of the pit I stabbed into broke away entirely, allowing me to continue thrusting forward to STAB MYSELF between the index and middle fingers of my left hand.

OW!

I got a good half inch into my flesh before I could stop myself and pull the knife back out. Immediately, in response to the pain, I shook my hand to “shake away the pain” like we all do when we smash a finger or stub a toe. That resulted in me flinging enough blood around the floor, cabinets, counters and refrigerator to make a good contender for Best Amateur CSI Crime Scene. I only noticed the spray after I brought my hand up to inspect the damage, only to find the blood still gushing out like a bright red fountain centerpiece at an expensive party.

I called out to Melissa to come quickly to the kitchen to assist me. It more accurately sounded like, “Melissa! Come here quick! HelpMeHelpMeHelpMe!…” She rushed in, saw the blood EVERYWHERE, and began to have an anxiety attack. I was pretty damned anxious, myself, come to mention it. She grabbed a chair, told me to sit in it, and suggested I stop rinsing my hand in the sink. I knew I should get all the foreign matter out I could, but after a minute I agreed and sat down. She ran to get a rag and some bandages and tape, but she had to go have a sit when she saw the blood all over, again.

After she made me apply pressure to the cut with a dry facecloth, we agreed that we should go to the ER. Calmer, now that I was clenching the rag and stopping the bleeding, I set about the work of cleaning the Crime Scene with mutli-purpose cleaner. MissyG repeatedly insisted I do that later, but I didn’t want it freaking her out any more, and didn’t want it to dry and stain. So, I sprayed and cleaned with one hand, while the other throbbed like hell. Once I was done, I had her grab some magazines, made sure I had my Insurance cards, she grabbed my wallet and work ID, and we were off. It was funny – MissyG had to buckle my seatbelt since I had no use of my left hand.

Once we parked, I walked right into the ER, breezed right past the dozen or so people waiting for the Triage/Admit area, stepped up to the window and explained that I needed help right away, and why. I made sure to flash that Hospital Employee ID quite visibly, buddy. They said, “Come on in!”

MissyG and I had a seat. The two guys working Triage focused on my situation. The one closest took the rag from me that I had been clenching. I was clenching so hard that my fingers were stuck in that position. Both nurses checked out the wound and figured that at worst I might need a single stitch – the cut was deep and narrow, but I could feel and flex my fingers ok. One of them saw that MissyG was freaking again, and tried to distract/calm her by telling a story of how he injured himself similarly. She was pale and couldn’t talk well, but still tried to put on a brave face. Finally, once the ER guys and I decided I would not need that stitch, they put sterile ointment on the cut, added gauze, and wrapped the whole thing, sending me home with more bandages and directions to keep it clean and come back if it got numb or worsened. No charge, no paperwork. How’s THAT for an intangible work benefit?

It is still healing, today. The cut was not too bad, and didn’t sever anything important. Honestly, it looks tiny, and not worthy of all the hubbub. The blood pouring out had me fooled that it was much worse than it turned out to be. I mean, it was freaking everywhere, and kept pouring out. Did I mention it was all over the damned kitchen?

MissyG is embarrassed about having had her anxiety attacks, but I’m not mad. Ultimately, she took care of me just how I needed. Oddly, in a relationship troubled by silly quarrels, real conflicts, and everything in between, we make such a good partnership when we team together and let our love rule our thoughts and actions. It’s so cheesy, but I’m glad it happened, because I think we’ve been needing a reminder of that.

Oh, there’s one more thing. Where’s my damned facecloth? That ER dude took it and just pitched it! I didn’t even notice until MissyG mentioned it the next day. Dammit.