Well you would think after being alive for almost twenty five years I would have learned by now to pay attention to whatever the heck I am doing. Well I haven't and now I am paying the painful price for it.
Yesterday afternoon I was finally cutting the squares for my duvet cover that I am going to make for our bedroom. I needed to cut 123 squares out of shiny slippery yellow fabric and it was slow and tedious work. I was using a nice sharp roller cutter (basically a pizza cutter for fabric). Finally I was cutting out the last two squares and I was so happy to be done with the hardest part of the entire process. I let my mind wander, set down the cutter to make the last cut, and I did. Then it hit my brain like this "Wow you just cut a very large chunk off your finger."
I raced to the kitchen clutching my wounded finger tightly, and intercommed down to Tyler. "I need your help now!!" I said. He ran upstairs and I explained the situation. He got some band aids out of the cupboard (totally pointless but we hadn't really assessed the situation yet) and had me hold my hand over the sink. I didn't look at my hand, but out of the corner of my eye I could see a lot of blood. Tyler looked at it and basically said "that is really bad".
So what should we do? Tyler had me put a tissue in my fist and I clenched it really tight and then he took an ace bandage and wrapped my entire fist up like a stub. Then I called a receptionist at the Ogden Clinic and told them to pass the word to my dad that I was headed in.
I got in my car and drove my stubby self down to the clinic. I tried not to think about the irreparable damage I had incurred upon one of my important appendages. I got to the front desk of the clinic and basically said "please open the door so I can go see my dad". She laughingly called me a troublemaker, but she let me in. (Aside : I really try not to take advantage in this way, I always pay to go to the doctor and wait in the waiting room, but this time I thought part of my finger was missing.)
So I rushed to the back desk, and my dad's MA was expecting me and they whisked me into the little mini clinic fixing-people room. They unwrapped my stub and my hand was all white from being so tight. They gently got me to unclench my hand and then I started to get queasy. I still hadn't looked at my hand and I wasn't about too.
Dad came in and looked at my hand and got out the topical anesthesia, in shot form. Then proceeded to prick the top of my finger in half a dozen places. But at least then I couldn't feel my finger anymore, but I still wasn't looking. Then I got my finger all cleaned up and that was weird, and I am so happy I couldn't feel it and I still wasn't looking. Then I waited for a few minutes until they were ready to stitch it up. I got 5 blue stitches at the top of my left index finger. I finally looked as dad was putting in the last stitch and that was pretty weird. I couldn't feel it but I could see my finger with a flap sewn back in place and blood pulsing out the stitching holes. Nasty.
After that I got cleaned off again, bandaged up, and sent home. Yeah it hurt something awful once the anesthesia wore off. It hurts especially when I am off my guard and Levi grabs my finger :( This morning I had to unwrap it and put a clean band aid on it. I took some pictures for your viewing pleasure. Don't worry they are kind of out of focus because my camera kept focusing on what was behind my hand.
This first picture is some of the bandage that was stuck to my bloody finger. I had to peel that off myself. Can you say queasy again?
And here we have my flap as it looked this morning, before I put more band aids on, in all it's five stitches glory. Yeah it makes me a little sick too, and yeah, it still hurts pretty good. Anyways the moral of the story is: Pay Attention to What You Are Doing or You Will End Up Like Me. (I always capitalize all my morals.) I just hope I can go to my violin lesson which is one week from today.
