Thumbs Down

Because some people do not enjoy reading about dumb ways I injure myself, I'm going to present this post in bullet points. It'll be like a Choose Your Own Adventure story, where if you are like my friend Kristin and you're absolutely terrified by sharp objects, you probably don't want to read this post. Instead, I'll suggest that you adventure over to Design Mom's site, where you can read an edited version of Tommy's birth story and reminisce about how my last medical mishap had a much happier ending.

For everyone else, journey on:

• Luke slept in Wed morning, and I thought, "Should I have another cup of coffee or should I bake?" I chose baking. BAD IDEA.
• I very successfully made a beautiful pie crust, and then moved on to cutting apples. I came across a Pampered Chef Apple Wedger which Shane had never even opened.
  
• I wedge one apple and also when they say it's an ingenious tool, they mean, WILL MAIM YOU, as I cut my thumb along with the apple.
  
• It's such a sharp blade that the cut doesn't actually hurt. At first, I think,oh, that's not too bad, then realize a flap of skin is hanging off of my thumb and it's bleeding rather profusely.
• RUH ROH
• I grab paper towel and apply pressure, then call my mom who says she will come over and take me to urgent care
• While waiting and bleeding everywhere, I email Beth, Steph, and Sarah and ask them to please keep emailing me so that I do not FREAK OUT.
  
• I grab one of Julie's cloth napkins because the paper towel is soaked with blood and wonder if I should remove the paper towel. My mom who is very squeamish yells at me for even considering removing it.
• My mom got to my house even faster than the night Tommy was born. I must've sounded much more anxious on the phone, though my dad claims that the night Tommy was born, she was driving too slow even though he told her to hurry.
  
• The lovely people at urgent care first refuse to treat me, even though my hand is covered in blood because I do not have a photo ID on me. They make me go upstairs to the clinic where I've gone before, and thankfully, they have a photo copy of my license. Oddly, while they refuse to treat me in urgent care without a photo ID, upstairs they have no problem handing me a photocopy of my license and my insurance card with my SS# written across the top. It's a good thing I'm me and not just someone who looks remotely like me.
  
• meanwhile I am still dripping blood.
• They check me in and go through my file, asking rather inane questions like, "You have no religion listed, would you like to update that?" and then say they can't see me without a $40 copay.
  
• My mom pays it, while snarkily saying, "Do you need to see MY ID?"
• The woman says, Oh no, we let anyone pay us! I consider punching her in the face, but I know she is just doing her job, and also, my hand hurts.
  
• Meanwhile I am wondering how many H1N1 germs Luke and Tommy are inhaling
• We sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes. At one point, I start to cry.
• Then I get this email from a friend about the ID issue:
  "So, if you were in a car accident and your car started on fire and you were burned over 50% of your body and your driver's license started on fire they'd be like "SORRY, BITCH." We can't treat you.
  I ain't never seen them ask for an id on ER or Grey's. SHIT."
• After reading it, I start laughing but then think that if I'm laughing, they might think my thumb is okay and make me wait longer, so I loudly say OUCH MY THUMB, and hope they'll think I'm delirious. There is no one else in the waiting room, thankfully.
  
• Finally, they call me back. First they ask me fun questions like, "Do you have a family history of diabetes?" and "When was your last period?" I'm starting to get histrionic and am thinking things like, "I AM GOING TO HAVE TO WALK AROUND WITH A HOLE IN MY THUMB FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN MY LAST PERIOD WAS, OH GOD WHY MEEEEEEEE."
• The nurse takes off the cloth napkin, then starts to rip away the paper towel while I am all OW OW CHUNK OF SKIN.
• They remove the paper towel and say, Oh, wow. Because they thought I was a big fat liar when I first walked in covered in blood.
  
• I am bleeding everywhere, like more than I ever thought possible.
• No one asks me if this makes me woozy. It doesn't, but a lot of people are freaked by blood so it amazed me that they were like, here, apply pressure, and just left me alone for large blocks of time.
• the Dr finally comes in and gives me a ring block of shots, in which they ring your thumb with numbing shots. Shots in your thumb hurt, but not as bad as having a baby. I tell him this and he hits me in the arm that is attached to my busted thumb and laughs. I like him. He also asks if the blood makes me feel faint. Two points for the doctor!
  
• The nurse comes in and irrigates it with saline. She uses an entire bottle and it is still bleeding heavily. She then gives me more gauze, says apply pressure and leaves.
• First I take a picture because I know I will want to harass Shane with it later.
  
• I wait for a very long time, still thinking about H1N1 germs and how Luke and Tommy are probably hungry and how I left the house wearing this because I couldn't figure out how to change clothes while keeping pressure on my thumb:
  
  But at least I wasn't naked for THIS medical mishap.
  
• the Dr comes back in, removes the gauze and says, Wasn't there skin attached? I look at a large, gaping hole in my thumb, look at the gauze and say, Oh. It came off. It's right there.
  
• He laughs and says, sweetie, you aren't getting stitches today. I consider asking if I can keep the piece of my thumb just to be a weirdo, but I don't.
  
• Then he leaves, and while I wait a million minutes for the nurse to return, I wrap my thumb piece up in the gauze so it can have a proper funeral shroud.
  
• She puts this foam gel stuff in the wound which should help it, but I'm still bleeding profusely. She removes and replaces gauze three times because I keep bleeding before another nurse comes in with super clotting powder. The nurses and I discuss all the various things I can make Shane do for me since he will be, quite literally, under my thumb.
  
• I leave and Luke is disappointed that the doctor did not give me a sucker. I kind of am too.
  
• TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER, THE END. (except for the part where I have to change the dressing every day and oh, internet, I will spare you what that is like but I will just say GULP.)