My "bloody" little tale from Sunday

I can not tell you how many people have advised me over the years not to try to open things with my teeth. These are the same people that have told me when you are cutting cut away from yourself.

Well I do occasionally listen to good advice so yesterday evening when I was attempting to get the plastic stuff off the top of my new bottle of contact lens solution I did not use my teeth. Instead I used a very sharp knife and slid the blade underneath the wrapping and cut away from my body.

Unfortunately cutting away from one’s torso is then cutting towards one’s hand. The knife cut through the plastic then continued its way through to my hand. Basically I stabbed myself.

I have done a lot of stupid things, that have often left spectacular bruises or lumps or bumps, but I have to say I out did myself with this one stupid, fluid motion.

Blood shot up and out spraying all over the kitchen sink, the backsplash, the under hang of the cabinet the floor and all over me. I think I went into a slight state of shock like WTF did I just do? I could not have just done that. Then I thought Oh shit I better stop the bleeding now. So I put my right hand over the stab wound (it was a stab not a cut as the knife when almost ¼ centimeter into the muscle between my thumb and index finger) and put pressure on it.

I was feeling quite proud until I slowly took my right hand off and blood squirted me in the face. Now this may sound odd, but I was in my pink Winnie the Poo Eeyore PJ’s, I had no under clothes on and here I was holding my right had over my left hand so I had no hands, and I’m thinking there is no way in the world that I am going to call 911 and have the paramedics see me dressed like this. I have decided that my nightwear needs a severe overhaul in case this ever happens again. Anyhoo, I could not change my clothes as I really did not have any hands - I could not drive to the emergency room as I did not have any hands this whole no hands thing was becoming a problem.

So I’m standing there in my kitchen surrounded by all this blood wondering what my next step should be. My next literal step was to slip in the blood so now it was on my ass as well because when I slipped I let go of my hand to break my fall and more blood squirted out.

I was getting a little concerned at this point so I tried to call my friend Denise and her fiancé using the index finger on my right hand still placing pressure on my left; no one answered the phone. I called 5 other people and no one answered their phones. I kept wishing that my friend Robert was in town, because he is always good about answering the phone and lives really close to me. It would have been pay back for the night he went boink on his head, but that is another story all together.

Finally I was considering calling 911 when my friend Denise called back. She came over with John and he was like Jesus Christ it looks like some one was murdered in here which for some reason I thought was really funny, so I started to laugh. Denise kind of stepped back from me I guess she thought I was losing my mind along with my blood, but John was like okay let me see it. I felt so bad about the next thing that happened. They were both dressed up and she was wearing a pretty white skirt and he a really nice white shirt and jacket; when I uncovered my hand because he was holding it by his chest I got blood all over his shirt cuff and jacket. He stepped back a bit, covered my hand then told Denise to get a towel – when she did he got blood on her skirt. I kept saying I don’t have HIV so please don’t worry and they keep assuring me that was the last thing they were thinking about.

Long bloody story short, the cut finally congealed so I decided not to go to the emergency room. There is only 1 emergency room in New Orleans – except for the one that they take gun shot victims , crazy people and people without insurance so I felt pretty sure that my wait would be so long that by the time the Dr. would see me it would be too late to get stitches anyway. John and Denise went to Walgreen’s and got me butterfly bandages. I always wondered how they worked so I guess I actually learned something.

The moral of this story is: Umm I not sure there is a moral, but perhaps it can be that accidents do happen, and when they do it is very important to have friends who will help you out.

Thanks Denise & John!