For those Sesame Street fans out there, today is brought to you by the letters o,u,c and h and by the number 7.
Apparently I’m not content with monthly hospital visits for other accident prone members of the family recently and had to join in. Completing my #40acts without moaning and doing the unwashed dishes this morning and disaster struck.
What happened? Good question!
Now it is quite possible, dear reader, that you are wondering how disaster could strike when washing up. It’s a very good question and one I can’t completely answer. I can tell you though that feeling a very sharp pain on my right hand, lifting it out of the water to discover blood gushing in a manner that Quentin Tarantino would be proud of. A glass tumbler had broke whilst I was washing it.
My reaction? Read on!
Now, I wish I could say that I remained godly at this moment and did not swear, but alas, I cannot. I think there were many *uckity *uck *ucks as I turned on the tap to rinse the deep and wide cut and swore even more at the searing pain that ensued from such a stupid automatic reaction. Mind you that was probably at such a high pitch and squeal that it was unrecognisable.
What next you may well ask?!
Feeling rather sick at this point (and I’m not normally squeamish) I grabbed kitchen roll and wrapped my hand to quell the gush of blood. I then grabbed my phone and called a friend. I’m no doctor but even I could tell this needed stitches. After several attempts my friend called back, understanding that my unusual repeated calls meant an emergency. She gallantly stopped what she was doing and came to collect me with her husband and whizzed me to the local medical clinic.Thankfully there was no queue at the clinic and I was seen straight away.
I walk in holding my right hand with blood stained kitchen roll. The Dr asks me what happened. I tell him I was washing dishes and cut it on a glass. He immediately preps a table with medical equipment and takes a look at my hand. Now, I don’t know about you, but what you don’t want to hear a Dr say straight away is “Oh no!”. Erm, not reassuring doc – thanks for that! (I told him that too and he smiled.)
So the Dr says he has to take a close look and apologises in advance for the pain he is about to cause and before I could react he lifted up the flap of skin hanging onto the back of my hand. I squealed like a pig. There is no denying it. The pain was searing and took my breath away. At least I couldn’t squeal anymore so that was a bonus!
“Oh, phew!” Says the Dr, “I thought you had cut your tendon but you just missed it”. Woohoo! Go me! cutting the tendon would have been a trip to the hospital for an operation but because I just missed it I “only” needed 7 stitches. Yes, you did read that correct, SEVEN! Seven flipping stitches for washing the dishes! Somebody should have warned me that #40acts carries a health warning! Ha ha ha.
I had to have three injections of local anaesthetic during which I did think I might have bitten through the knuckle on my left hand as I try to not scream. Needles into a painful cut is not something I would want anyone to have. After that though I could merrily watch and observe the Dr stitching my hand as I couldn’t feel a thing. He was considering two more but thinks we could get away with 7.
Well after paying the bill ( be grateful for the NHS folks!) I received painkillers and antibiotics. Thankfully my tetanus was up to date (because of a cat incident in India – a story for another time), so I didn’t need a tetanus jab. I have an appointment for tomorrow morning to have the dressing changed and checked and then back in two weeks for the stitches to be removed. Rest and let it heal and don’t get it wet.
Great you think, except for two things:
1. How do I wash without getting my hand wet? Covid-19 makes this imperative too.
2. We move house next week. I’m supposed to be decluttering and packing personal items and valuables. Can’t do that now either.
Well I’ll have plenty of time to think about those over the next few days at least because I won’t be doing much else. (It has taken me quite some time to write this blog left handed too.) Time to catch up on books and movies.
P.S. I avoided posting the graphic pics of the injury and stitches – don’t want to make you feel ill over your breakfast/ lunch/ dinner.