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eve_primeI'd been planning to post about how we've decided to get a bunch of new iris from Schreiner's, but the day then became much more dramatic.
I wanted to pick up two books that had come in at the library for me, and R. was still having fun looking at iris pictures online, so off I went for a brief errand on a pretty, sunny day. I got the books, left the library, and was heading up the shallow, concrete steps just east of the library, when... I tripped and fell forward. Since I was holding the books, I basically landed on my left arm (which is pretty much fine, and my watch still works), but my head kept going, and my sunglasses smashed into the concrete and my face at the same time. Suddenly I had a dripping, bloody gash, more than an inch long. I got up and kept going toward my car, but I was getting blood on my clothes and (ack) a little on the books, and suddenly my left eye couldn't even see because of it. I decided to be sensible, and maybe I needed help? So I headed back into the library, looking like something out of a horror movie. Hardly anyone's around because of the holiday, and I don't think anyone noticed that my hand and half my face were covered with blood. So I went in the bathroom and got cleaned up, and the bleeding stopped. I started to head toward the car but felt a bit faint, so I lay on the marble bench in the entryway and stared up at the ceiling for maybe a minute. Then I was well enough, walked the half mile back to the car, and drove home.
So then I was here, restless, not sure what to do. D. gave me a big hug, and R. fussed over me pleasingly, but I could tell that the cut was fairly deep. So we went to Safeway for butterfly bandages, and the pharmacist (whom we've known for years, nice guy, breeds orchids) recommended polysporin and probably a trip to the E.R. I came home and bandaged myself up - and I looked really silly with three butterfly bandages holding my face together - but then I felt almost entirely okay. It was actually the realization that I felt pretty much fine that made me decide I wouldn't mind going to the hospital, and I did think I probably needed stitches. So finally I packed up some bread and havarti and a selection of reading material and drove to the E.R., which ironically is all of four blocks from where I'd hurt myself in the first place.
If you have to visit the E.R., Saturday evening on a sunny Memorial Day weekend might be the best time. No traffic, almost no patients. Very little waiting. After only 10-15 minutes, most of which was triage and registration, I was led to a bed and offered a gown. I had decided that Pride and Prejudice was the literary equivalent of comfort food, so I read a few pages. Then the nurse told me what to expect and wrapped me up in heated blankets, and almost instantly the doctor arrived. (I like that it's perfectly normal these days for the R.N. to be male and the M.D. to be female.) She decided stitches were indeed a good idea. So first there was me lying there with a very bright light on my face, getting cleaned up. Then there was a numbing agent, which really did sting! Then there was stitching, which took maybe five minutes and wasn't even a little uncomfortable. Then there was waiting about 15 minutes for the nurse to come back. He gave me a tetanus shot (oh joy), as it had been maybe... 40 years? since my last. And then I said my goodbyes and emerged into the early evening breezes and drove home.
I was wearing a black tank top, so the blood doesn't even show, and I think I got all of it off the books. I feel pretty good, too.
I wanted to pick up two books that had come in at the library for me, and R. was still having fun looking at iris pictures online, so off I went for a brief errand on a pretty, sunny day. I got the books, left the library, and was heading up the shallow, concrete steps just east of the library, when... I tripped and fell forward. Since I was holding the books, I basically landed on my left arm (which is pretty much fine, and my watch still works), but my head kept going, and my sunglasses smashed into the concrete and my face at the same time. Suddenly I had a dripping, bloody gash, more than an inch long. I got up and kept going toward my car, but I was getting blood on my clothes and (ack) a little on the books, and suddenly my left eye couldn't even see because of it. I decided to be sensible, and maybe I needed help? So I headed back into the library, looking like something out of a horror movie. Hardly anyone's around because of the holiday, and I don't think anyone noticed that my hand and half my face were covered with blood. So I went in the bathroom and got cleaned up, and the bleeding stopped. I started to head toward the car but felt a bit faint, so I lay on the marble bench in the entryway and stared up at the ceiling for maybe a minute. Then I was well enough, walked the half mile back to the car, and drove home.
So then I was here, restless, not sure what to do. D. gave me a big hug, and R. fussed over me pleasingly, but I could tell that the cut was fairly deep. So we went to Safeway for butterfly bandages, and the pharmacist (whom we've known for years, nice guy, breeds orchids) recommended polysporin and probably a trip to the E.R. I came home and bandaged myself up - and I looked really silly with three butterfly bandages holding my face together - but then I felt almost entirely okay. It was actually the realization that I felt pretty much fine that made me decide I wouldn't mind going to the hospital, and I did think I probably needed stitches. So finally I packed up some bread and havarti and a selection of reading material and drove to the E.R., which ironically is all of four blocks from where I'd hurt myself in the first place.
If you have to visit the E.R., Saturday evening on a sunny Memorial Day weekend might be the best time. No traffic, almost no patients. Very little waiting. After only 10-15 minutes, most of which was triage and registration, I was led to a bed and offered a gown. I had decided that Pride and Prejudice was the literary equivalent of comfort food, so I read a few pages. Then the nurse told me what to expect and wrapped me up in heated blankets, and almost instantly the doctor arrived. (I like that it's perfectly normal these days for the R.N. to be male and the M.D. to be female.) She decided stitches were indeed a good idea. So first there was me lying there with a very bright light on my face, getting cleaned up. Then there was a numbing agent, which really did sting! Then there was stitching, which took maybe five minutes and wasn't even a little uncomfortable. Then there was waiting about 15 minutes for the nurse to come back. He gave me a tetanus shot (oh joy), as it had been maybe... 40 years? since my last. And then I said my goodbyes and emerged into the early evening breezes and drove home.
I was wearing a black tank top, so the blood doesn't even show, and I think I got all of it off the books. I feel pretty good, too.