I'm not sure about everyone else in the world, but I have a tendency to wash everything I can in the dishwasher, including my wine glasses. The bottoms of them always seem to get a little pool of water on the top once it's finished, so I was drying stuff off as I pulled it out. Somehow (Lord knows I'm not THAT strong) I snapped the stem of one of the wineglasses while I was wiping it and slashed my finger. To be honest, I didn't even notice the cut at first because I was so mystified as to why the glass broke like that (my Step dad thinks that the dishwasher could have weakened the glass, any thoughts??), but once I noticed it, it was starting to bleed. Hard.
I tried rinsing it in the sink and blotting it with a paper towel but it wouldn't stop bleeding. So I had to make the call as to whether it constituted a visit to the ER. One thing you have to understand about me is that it is my natural inclination to run and hide and deflect attention whenever I am hurting, so the decision to go is either impulsive or necessitated.
Anyway, regardless to say that I came home at 1am with 3 stitches in my finger, and then proceeded to restart the bleeding and have to change band-aids due to my determination to get a photo of that darned wine glass. (To be honest, I made it bleed again after that by being stubborn and helping out with the Haunted House we're building at work.)
*Photos to come*
I tried to get a photo of my finger, but a. its nasty, and b. me and my camera are right handed and I'm not yet talented enough to be able to take a photo with my left hand on that camera.
Supposedly I can cut the stitches out myself next week; the thought of it both frightens and intrigues me. We'll see if I don't end up making an appointment at my doctors to get it done.
I have only been to the ER 3 times in my life, and 2 of them have been in the past 3.5 years Craig and I have been together. Somehow he's managed to be away on Training both times I've gone in, and this time I really missed him! It would have been nice to have someone else there who would have helped me make the decision whether it was bad enough to go the hospital. I was TERRIFIED that they would send me home and tell me to put on a band-aid.
And its a little tough to drive one handed.