Ouch
Typing has become somewhat difficult for me, but it's not the fault of my faulty computer (surprise); instead, it's that of my non-functional kitchen window. Yeah - the massive double-window with the metal frame. Why has my typing become difficult? For the same reason that I can no longer 'flip the bird' if I ever felt so inclined: stitches on the inside of my middle finger, binding the upper two-thirds of it together. I was cooking a burger on one of our classic frying pans, but there was a lot of smoke, so I decided to open a window to prevent the fire alarm from going off. Unfortunately, I only gave the window half of the attention it deserved, thinking (silly me) that it would stay up when I opened it. While turning away, the windown slammed back down, directly onto the bend in my finger seperating the upper two thirds - that's where the bone seems closest to the skin.
Without getting into graphic detail, it was bleeding rather profusely and I was sure those little white things were the bone, so I got a ride to Hopital Hotel-Dieux (shortly after almost blacking out). I ended up being the only patient in the emergency ward, and while the service was good and relatively quick, it seemed as though I was second on the priority list, below the Habs game which was playing on each of the three TVs in the waiting room. It was, however, an opportunity to use my french in an interesting setting, something I wouldn't have been able to do had I gone to the Royal Vic (where the wait would have undoubtedly been two or three times longer). In the end I came out with three stitches...but no 'hero' button, as I did the last time I got stitches when I was eight or nine. This time, fortunately, they froze my finger properly before stitching it up, something they certainly did not do the first time.
Lessons learned:
- never trust anything that appears to be fixed (ie. stationary) in my apartment. Ex) windows, doorknobs, etc.
- when in need, go to Hopital Hotel Dieu (Pine and St. Urbain)
- the nausea and intense heat you feel after cutting yourself eventually goes away, but going outside for a few deep breaths will speed up the process. Hold on to things on the way out the door.
- after leaving the hospital, alone in a foreign land, go to Pasha's for sympathy, shelter from the rain, pizza pops, and good conversation.
Without getting into graphic detail, it was bleeding rather profusely and I was sure those little white things were the bone, so I got a ride to Hopital Hotel-Dieux (shortly after almost blacking out). I ended up being the only patient in the emergency ward, and while the service was good and relatively quick, it seemed as though I was second on the priority list, below the Habs game which was playing on each of the three TVs in the waiting room. It was, however, an opportunity to use my french in an interesting setting, something I wouldn't have been able to do had I gone to the Royal Vic (where the wait would have undoubtedly been two or three times longer). In the end I came out with three stitches...but no 'hero' button, as I did the last time I got stitches when I was eight or nine. This time, fortunately, they froze my finger properly before stitching it up, something they certainly did not do the first time.
Lessons learned:
- never trust anything that appears to be fixed (ie. stationary) in my apartment. Ex) windows, doorknobs, etc.
- when in need, go to Hopital Hotel Dieu (Pine and St. Urbain)
- the nausea and intense heat you feel after cutting yourself eventually goes away, but going outside for a few deep breaths will speed up the process. Hold on to things on the way out the door.
- after leaving the hospital, alone in a foreign land, go to Pasha's for sympathy, shelter from the rain, pizza pops, and good conversation.
posted by Per at 10:20 a.m.
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