Accidents Will Happen

My other half left early this morning to begin dressing a truck to carry children from the school she works at in the town carnival. While she did that I wandered down to the post office to pick up some parcels. After delivering one of the parcels to her, I wandered home and put the kettle on – expecting to have perhaps an hour before wandering back towards town to watch the carnival parade.

And that’s when the phone rang. One of our friends.

“Hi – W’s cut her hand. She’s ok, but she’s going to have to go to hospital. One of her co-workers is taking her right now. Do you want to speak to her?”

“Hi?”

An immediately tearful voice answered.

“Is it bad?”

“Yes.”

I looked at the ceiling, and tried to figure out what to say or do next. Twenty minutes later I too was on my way to the hospital in a taxi to find her. I had visions of spending three or four hours sitting in accident and emergency, waiting to be seen.

Almost unbelievably, she was being seen when I walked in – I knocked on the door of her treatment room, waited for the doctor to answer, and peaked my head in to smiles from both the doctor, and the patient.

“I feel a bit silly”.

She was propped up in bed, with a sizeable bandage being wrapped around her hand. It transpired she had been changing the rigging on the carnival display while under time pressure, slipped, and stuck a swiss army knife blade straight into the fleshy part of her thumb.

After being patched up, we wandered out to find the wonderful co-worker and her husband that had rushed her to hospital, and made our way home with them – almost unbelievably just in time to walk into town alongside the carnival procession.

I questioned if we really should be taking any risks with the freshly re-assembled hand, but my other half seemed happy enough. I think that had more to do with elephant dosages of painkillers than anything though.

The parade itself was wonderful – seeing the infant school children wave to the thousands that turned out. In a strange sort of way, I think the universe realised what it had done earlier in the morning, and thought it had better redress the balance – we had blue skies and sunshine all day.

We survived a couple of hours at the carnival – listening to live bands, and watching displays – before the painkillers began to wear off and I suggested we really should call it a day.

By mid-afternoon we were home. I went home via the supermarket to buy food, and two boxes of ibuprofen. W is presently sitting in the lounge with colouring books – she’s not allowed to use her left hand for a few days, so can’t knit.

I’m just glad she’s ok.

9 thoughts on “Accidents Will Happen

  1. I sliced my finger a couple of weeks ago on a knife in the sink. The cut was so bad it was still bleeding after 12 hours (overnight). My partner told me I should have gone to the ER for stitches. But I didn’t…I couldn’t really drive with that distraction (he wasn’t around until later) and I also anticipated a 3, 4 hour wait, which is typical here and I wanted to avoid. But it healed eventually.

    I was a one-handed person for that week as well. The funny thing is, typing with my finger all bandaged up kept activating the all caps on the keyboard. So annoying. 😐

    Anyway, I know how she feels is what I’m saying. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah – this one was pretty horrific. She has cut right the way across the fleshy part of her thumb – across her palm – deep too. It’s been taped together, and her hand bandaged to prevent her flexing it. They don’t stitch palms and faces, apparently unless there is no other option – and then it’s microsurgery, so would have meant being transferred to a specialist in London.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.