This may be one of the shortest things I've ever written because I have limited use of my left hand, so I'm gonna be running spell check and grammar check and Brad says I probably need to run some kind of sanity check, too! Always the comedian, ha ha!
First the good news. Brad put in a good word for me to Santa and I got a really nice woodcarving kit! You may remember me writing before Thanksgiving that our next door neighbor was teaching me about woodcarving. And if you've been following the blog for a while, you know I love stuff like this. Before I started college, I was working with this construction company in their home refurbishing section. I've learned a lot about building cabinets, bookshelves, tables, room molding, outdoor decks, etc.
But woodcarving is a lot more complicated, at least to me at this stage. You have these really small, but extremely sharp and pointed knives and the wood you're working with is a lot smaller than I'm use to.
Well, after a really wonderful day of celebrating Christmas with both our families, we returned home for our own little celebration, our first Christmas together since moving into our own place.
Brad got me this really nice woodcarving kit, and not one of those little beginner's sets. This one came with all kinds of speciality knives in addition to this special Kevlar glove you wear on the hand that's holding the wood in case the knife slips.Well. After we opened our presents to each other and had some egg nog (not spiked, mind you, so I was in my right mind!), I had the box the knives call home balancing on my lap. I was just taking one knife out at a time, looking at how they were all different from each other. Just being curious. I was not carving. Somehow the box slipped out of my lap and went crashing to the floor and I guess I had this automatic reaction where I was trying to catch the box with one hand while holding one of the carving knives with the other hand. Well, guess what happened? I accidentally stabbed the knife into my left hand between my thumb and index finger.
Before I knew what was happening, Brad saw the blood before I did. It actually took a few seconds before I even felt any pain. So Brad grabs my hand and tells me to cover the wound while he runs to get a clean towel so we can press it and try to stop the bleeding. At this point I'm feeling extreme pain and neither of us can tell how serious the wound is because of the bleeding.
Before I know what's happening, Brad's leading me out to the car and we're off to the emergency room. Once we get there, they see the blood-soaked towel and get us in pretty quickly. They get the story of what happened from Brad and start cleaning my hand and then determine it needs to be sutured. Thank God I didn't do any serious damage to any of the muscles or tendons and the doctor said the knife didn't go in all that deep. They sewed three stitches (or sutures) to close the cut and I was given some antibiotics and some pain pills.
Well, I was given first-class care by my purtty live-in nurse! The next morning purtty Nurse Bradley had to go to the drugstore to get some more gauze and tape and other stuff, and before he left he made sure I had taken one of my pain pills. Man-oh-man do those things take care of the pain. I felt like I was in some kind of paradise and was floating all around the room, not a care in the world. The pill Nurse Bradley gave me eventually made me extremely groggy and I drifted away from Paradise and took a short nap. I must have moved my hand a certain way because I jolted awake from this sharp pain and called out to the Nurse. Well, the Nurse was making a mercy run to the drug store and I looked over and saw the prescription bottle of pain pills. Since I was so groggy, I had no memory that I had already taken one, so I popped another one.
When the Nurse returned, he shook me awake and I must have been as loopy as hell because I could see this worried look on his face, but I felt like I was returning to Paradise with a vengeance. He asked about the pain and I giggled and said I just took a pill so there was nothing to worry about. Then I started drifting back to sleep.
The Nurse called the doctor to see if it was dangerous that I'd taken two pills so close together and was assured that it was okay but to stay close by and watch me and call if I seemed to be hallucinating or wouldn't wake up. Well, with such a prutty nurse holding my hand and never leaving my side, I just drifted in and out of sleep and was told later I said some really funny things, a few of which were X-rated! One of my requests seemed to be something about massaging my penis and getting in bed with me to keep me company. The prutty Nurse said he was not allowed to get in bed with the patient due to something about professional standards, which I must have thought was the funniest thing I ever heard! Then I drifted off to sleep again.
Needless to say, I got off those loopy pain pills as quickly as I could and started on just regular tylenol. I've been fine ever since.
I had a followup appointment with the doctor to check on the wound and was told it looked fine. Why do doctors talk that way? I mean, after stabbing my hand, all the bleeding involved, three sutures, going all loopy on those pills, the doctor looked at it and said, "Okay. It looks fine." Guess they see worse things every day, but he explained that there appeared to be no signs of infection and he felt he wouldn't have to schedule an amputation. Ha ha!
I tried to get my prutty live-in Nurse to take dictation so I could send some emails out to some friends, but he said that wasn't in his Nursing job description! I swear you can't get good hired help today! LOL. He did, however, eventually bend his "professional" standards and took some short dictation for those emails and I noticed I didn't have to even ask him to join the poor patient in bed. Before I got off the loopy pills, I think the Nurse may have taken advantage of the patient because the patient went back to Paradise, but this time that Paradise was called an orgasm. I wonder if I should report the Nurse for unprofessional conduct? Nah, I think he knew it would help in his patient's recovery. And that it did.
Oh, one last thing. I think I may have to report the nurse for hiding my woodcarving kit somewhere. He absolutely refuses to tell me where it's hidden. I think I have to be wearing that special glove, one on each hand, along with goggles and a Kevlar jump suit before I can handle it again. And the Nurse said he has to be present when I get it back. Well, I agreed to most of those things since the Nurse asking me has my best interests at heart and is so damn purtty!
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