Let me preface this story with this truth. I am afraid of getting physically injured. I try to live my life carefully.. avoiding the chance of getting injured. I am the girl that when skiing.. I do the wedge the whole way down, so I can be in control of my speed, and lessen the likelihood of getting hurt. If you read my blog, its my reaction to blood/shots/pain etc that is the problem. And I think I am also more afraid of my reaction to an injury than to the injury, itself.
My brother loves to tell the story of when we were younger and we were playing catch in the front yard. I caught the ball that he threw, but I jammed my finger in the process. And before you know it, I was out cold. When I would pull my teeth as a kid, and would feel the hole that was left, I would pass out. My mom would have to drive me to any appointment where I would get shots because I would pass out or get sick. I am sure it is something mental.. but thats just how I deal with things. How I got through a vaginal delivery and C-Section without problem, is beyond me.
Well last night, my mom was over to hang out with me and the kids. Dad was out of town, so it was the perfect time for her to come. She brought us some YUMMY smoked turkey, and we had decided it would be really good in a turkey salad. I got out my submergible blender to ground it up. Craig walked in the door from work, so we were all talking about his day. And Jacksons strange refusal to go to the potty ON the potty but his extreme freakout if we try to put on a pull up. Some of the turkey was stuck up in the blades of the blender, so I was working to put it back in the bowl, and I guess my other hand hit the turn on button. I felt it hit my left index finger, I looked and had a HUGE gash on my finger. I turned to run water over it, and told myself and my mom it wasnt deep. Then I asked my mom if she thought it was deep. Her reply was "its pretty deep". I immediately started freaking out and all the color left my face. She quickly said "its not deep, its not deep" go sit down. Mom got me some water, and Craig got me a wet washcloth. At this point, we were trying to keep me from not passing out. When I felt stable enough, Mom stayed with the kids, and Craig and I headed to the emergency clinic in Newcastle. We were THE ONLY car there.. what is the chances of that. They clearly could tell that I was fixing to pass out/or be sick. I was white as a sheet. I just kept thinking.. what in the world am I going to do, if they tell me I am going to have to get stitches. I am going to die.
They took me back and got all my vitals. I reminded her that I was bleeding a ton.. did we really need to do all this stuff? But we did. She took me back to a procedure room, and looked at it. She said I would definitely need stitches. I asked if she could move a trash can by my head, I might get sick. The doctor came in, looked at it, told me "you mangled it really well". And told me I had 2 options.. he could give me 2 shots in the webs of my fingers to numb the finger and then sew me up. OR, I could go to the ER and they could somewhat sedate me, and then do the process there. I was totally freaked out, but decided I did not want to pay 2 locations for stitches. Kids get stitches ALL THE TIME, I kept telling myself. I have had 2 babies, I can do this. They put wet towels all over my face, and Craig held my right hand, while I was getting the numbing shots. I did SO good!!! They had to let them numbing take effect, and by then I was shaking like I did when I got the epidural with Jackson. They put a blanket over me, and it was better. Then they gave me a tetanis shot, because who knows when I got the last one. I told them that they were clearly trying to kill me with all these shots.
|you cant really tell the deepness here, but it wraps around.. as craig descibed kind of like a barber shop pole|
|ugh. so gross|