At about 8 p.m. Sunday my husband said I would probably need to go to the emergency room. The bleeding had not stopped from the gash on my left thumb. A steady trickle of blood kept filling up the gauze bandages I kept wrapping around my it. This was about three hours after the skin of my thumb got in the way of my peeling potatoes for dinner.
"Do I really have to?"
I so much did not want to go to the ER. Not for something stupid like this! I wanted to just get into my pajamas, curl up in bed with some peanut M&Ms and--I don't know--read a Walnut Creek city staff report. (Aren't I fun?)
And, now I'm back home, writing this. To my surprise and delight, I'm not having any trouble typing. I'm also OK with the splint. It looks rather dramatic--more dramatic than my so-called crisis was, of course. But as the nurse and I joked, if you're gonna go to the emergency room, you should at least leave with some visible reminder of the "emergency" you went through.
I will soon curl up in bed with my M&Ms and my Walnut Creek city staff report.
But I need to close with some words of advice. You know how your mother tells you to always wear clean underwear in case you get into an accident and have to go to the emergency room? Well, it's probably good to keep up with your manicures, in case you slice a digit with a potato peeler or a bagel knife. Alas, I had to expose my ragged, need-to-be-cut-and-filed-fingernails to strangers.
Oh well, I'm sure they've seen worse.