Dishes Suck

Damn glasses. So I came home from Angie's around noon or so, and by 1pm I was on my way to the Civic Hospital emergency room. The culprit? Washing a freaking glass.

Nothing too serious. I was washing a glass while doing the dishes (oddly, it was the last thing to clean) and it broke while my right hand was in it. My first reaction was, in no uncertain terms, "holymothafuckinshit!" followed by more intermittent swearing as my brain tried to process exactly what had happened while blood poured down my hand.

I ended up cutting deeply into my pinky finger, and three hours later when it was looked at by a doctor, found out I'd cut some minor artery or some such. It wouldn't stop bleeding. I soaked through a bathing towel Aaron gave me when we left, the gauze the triage nurse gave me while I waited another two hours, and the doctor went through about eight packages of gauze while freezing me and sewing me shut. (6 stitches... yay...) It only stopped when she placed a stitch through the little vein/artery and sewed it down. My arm was resting in an actual pool of blood. Lovely imagery, eh?

I found it all fascinating, actually. I watch Nip/Tuck religiously with Aaron, and have always been amazed by their re-creations of surgeries and such. Some of them very... disturbing. Very accurate, it turns out. I watched the freezing, and then the stitching. I had to help a bit at one point because blood just kept flowing over the areas she was trying to work on. I asked questions the whole time because I was really curious about it all. It was all very surreal. I couldn't feel anything, and because my hand was completely obscured by surgical towels or whatever, it looked like a disembodied hunk of flesh. Like it had no association with me personally.

On the plus side, I'm now up to date on my tetanus shot. On the down side, I wasted five hours of my day and can no longer boast that I've never broken a bone nor had stitches. My brother used to be the one who was always getting sewn up or having bones set. So much for my 28-year streak.

Wish I had a picture. I think the doctor had a camera phone. Should have asked her to take one before and one after. The one before would have been gruesome. It looked a bit like I had split my pinky in two. Not quite that bad, but the cut went a fair ways in. (edit: 24 hours later, I re-dressed my cut and decided to snap some pictures. Ugly...)

Nothing much else to report. Still no luck on the job front, and that's pissing me off. Well, some days I'll optimistic, other days pissed, and other days just down about it. Angie's moved into her place, and it's great to finally be in the same city.

That's about all I can think of for the moment.