Leap Day
February twenty-ninth and I won't be able to post on this day for another four years. So incredibly strange to me. It's too bad I'm not doing anything exciting today. I had all the excitement I need yesterday.
When you kick your foot into a spade bit, like this one,
you get this, a trip to the emergency room,
and this, a tetanus shot. Look how happy this girl is that she got hers. Although, I don't think she was moving her arms like this the next day. And it doesn't look like she has a half-inch-deep puncture wound on the top of her foot.
Scott never likes to ask for help and being a nurse makes it even harder. I don't know if all nurses are like this or if this is a male nurse thing. Maybe it's just a Scott thing. When he got the bleeding to stop a bit he looked at the wound and thought maybe it wasn't too bad and that he wouldn't need to go to the doctor. Then he wiggled his toes and more blood ran out and pooled under his foot. To the ER we went, where he refused to be pushed in a wheelchair and thought it would be, I don't know, less humiliating to hop the thirty feet through the waitning room while clutching a paper towel to his foot. I'm just glad the waiting room was empty and that I am very patient and calm in stressful situations.
It was a short visit as puncture wounds are not sutured because the risk of infection is greater if its closed up. The physician's assistant who was taking care of him didn't know he was a nurse and so she kept directing all of the questions and information at me. When she looked me in the eye and started to say "When you change the dressing and clean the wound..." I started laughing and told her I would NOT be doing that. She sort of half chuckled and then continued, this time speaking to Scott. I was dying thinking that this woman was expecting me to take care of an adult man's wound dressing. And a small and accessible wound at that. Don't get me wrong; I would take care of it if he was laid up and couldn't, but I know Scott wouldn't even let me help unless he was completely immobile. For a split second she looked at me like I was not such a good and sympathetic wife. Which sometimes I am not. And if asks me to clean it out, which he might just because he's a smart ass, I will tell him that I'm sure the dog would be happy to do it for me. I can't be nice all the time.
Happy Leap Day, everyone!
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