About a can, a hospital and other not so fun things

Its Saturday. For movie night – a weekly tradition – we will watch an Austin Powers movie and everyone is looking forward to dhal and chickpea curry dinner.

So, I have the rice and dhal going. The onions for the curry are chopped up and waiting. I take the can of chickpeas and pull the tab to open it. It slides like butter, smooth and easy, like no can ever before. I stumbled on the one and only, unique, working like it should be. That meant that all the force I have gotten used to apply in the procedure “opening a can”, went straight into my hand, along with the sharp fresh edge of the freed top.

It happened in a flash…I felt something like a mini electric shock on my right hand…

me: Oh no..
mr.: What?

I have a look and see the cuts…

me: Thats not good
mr.: What happened?

My brain is racing..think…whats the most important yhing to do…Stop the bleed!…I go in the bathroom. The cuts have had time to bleed a bit {good to wash off any infection}. I grab some cotton pads and squeeze…

mr. :What happened? Do you need something?
me: I cut myself…

dd1: mom, what happened? – looking at my bloody hand
me: I cut myself, but I am alright. Go play with your sister – knowing how sensitive she is to injuries.

Now I am palpating my fingers. Blood flow is good; I can move them; but I have a spot on my thumb that feels like pins and needles. Not normal.

me: We will need to go to the hospital. At the very least i need stitches.

But we realize we have no clue where to go. Where is the nearest hospital? No idea.
Mr Blab starts to round up the kids, while i call the health line. After a short conversation and virtual check up she agrees with my conclusion and tells me where to go.

The whole clan in the car, as Baby B cant be separated ftom me and i cant exactly care for him in the hospital. On the way over I inspect my sliced flesh. Doesnt look good, darn it!

I am dropped at the emergency entrance and they go off to find parking. I go in and struggle to figure out where to go. A drunken woman directs me to the triage nurses glassed cubicle . No one is there. A lot of nurses in the background, conversing.

My people arrive and we stand waiting. The friendly drunken woman starts to call on the nurses behind the glass to come and do their job. She is sweet, in her slippers and munching on a pack of sandwiches. I calm her down that we are ok and she sits back  down.

Eventually someone shows up behind the glass. I sit down and we exchange information, well, I gave it and he took it down on his computer. Then he gave me a  print out and sent me to another entry near by. Off we move.

Another area. People waiting. Glassed wall with a slot and a lady behind, who takes my piece of paper and types something…

she: Sit down and the nurses will call you.
me: can you give me an idea of how  long the wait is?
she: …well…there are 3 people before you…about 40 min?!
Me: thanks

We stand around. I am fidgety and dont feel like sitting. Then I worn the girls not to be touching too much around the place. I am pretty blaze about germs usually, but hospitals freak me out.
I realize that the  cuts have not been cleaned yet and ask the lady if I can  have some saline and a some gauze to wash it in the bathroom. She says I will have to wait a bit.

In a few minutes she comes back from the secret exam room and hands me the gauze and lets me know that the nurses said I can wash it with water…
I know I bloody can, but saline is better and its dirt cheap for goodness sake. What would have cost them to give me a pack of it?  Anyway, I go and wash and dry my cuts. Better than nothing, especially since who knows how long we will wait.

The kids are hungry and Mr.Blab takes them on a hunt for some sustanance. I stand and take a few peaks at the TV playing in the background. People come and go from the special room dispencing attention. I feel the adrenalin still running through my veins. The energy and spark. And I am really not looking forward to what will be  happening. Hospitals were not made for people like me…or for any people really.

CONTINUED part II