Hi, my name is William. I managed to stab myself in the shin with a kung fu sword today. I spent 5 hours waiting for the doctor to come in and fix it up. Jen got so tired that she climbed up in the E.R. bed with me for a nap. The doctor came in as we were dozing. "Sorry. Pregnant lady!"
Dr. James Smith (How is that not an alias? I wonder if he's in the witness relocation program or something) took care of me. I've got a wound about an inch long. He gave me three choices: stitches, super glue or staples. Stitches have a low chance of scarring, but the highest probability of infection. Super glue has no chance of scarring, little chance of infection, but a high probability of popping back open. The staples have a low probability of infection, the best stability but the highest probability of scarring. Chicks dig scars. At least I hope that Jen does. So I got three staples in my leg without an anesthetic. Getting the shots probably would have hurt more than the staples. Click, click, click.
I've got to leave the dressing on the wound for the next day or so, but I'll post pictures of the surreal sight of staples in my leg. I wonder if it was invented by a war surgeon that had to operate on someone in an office building.
The E.R. is full of weird stories. The lady across from me had fallen and thought she broke her hip. Her husband is at home, dying from lung cancer. Her daughter spent nearly an hour trying to locate a priest to administer last rites, cracking child molester jokes all the while. When she had to leave her mother, she wept openly.
The man next to me had some sort of kidney stone problem that he couldn't describe, because he didn't speak English. His daughter translated for him and they spent 15 minutes trying to figure out what medicines he took on a regular basis.
Wheee! Fun fun fun. Do not try this at home.
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