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Well, that was a thing.
The day before, I almost lost part of my right ring finger. I blame lack of awareness (duh) and spasticity. See, usually after I use the hand mixer for my cocoa coffee concoctions in my particular pitcher (take that, coffee frothers), when I wash it I submerse it in soapy water and let it spin. But this once, I accidentally had my right hand right near the spinning blades. I was holding the handle in my left hand (I know, I know), which suddenly spasmed (I know, I know), and then my right hand spasmed (I know, right?) and suddenly my third finger had touched a blade for a nanosecond before I lifted my left thumb off the button.
Nanoseconds are long when you're getting wounded.
And so, there's a tiny chunk missing off the very tip, to the right of the nail. I am absolutely amazed that's all that happened. Sloppy Luck wins again. There are enough layers of skin missing that the tiny circular wound was seeping serum after the bleeding stopped (which took a while). It now looks similar to a third degree burn.
(I have a picture. Wanna see?)
Adam, who was in California and AV teching a meeting when I called for first aid advice, said that anything deeper than a quarter of an inch would require stitches (we resorted to texting; he was surprisingly calm, but I am exasperating on a good day and he's a former EMT who has broken and flayed all his fingers over time, so). And that got me thinking about what I would do if I were alone and really injured. And I realized that in a serious major thing, my only chance, aside from the Comcast security camera dealie, would be to make friends with one of the townhouse owners right near me and call them to drive me to a hospital. There is Nicee, who has already told me that in an emergency, I could lean my head out the window and scream her name and she would come over from her place just around the corner. But I forget if she has a car. Damn, I need to go over there. She's usually out on her front walk smoking when I go for the mail. Other than waving hello and chatting, I don't remember which house is hers. Fuck. I'm screwed. I don't know why I haven't made friends with most of my neighbors since 2005.
Anyway, I can't find the specific finger bandages, so I've been using regular Band-Aids. And doing that with fingertip injuries is really fucking annoying.
When I took my shower, the bandage had to come off... but the worst thing was that I got soap in the wound. Meh.
Also, ring fingers are important. Especially when you have spastic hypertonia affecting one hand and the hand that is injured is your good hand. Good thing I taught myself to type with my first two fingers on both hands.
The day before, I almost lost part of my right ring finger. I blame lack of awareness (duh) and spasticity. See, usually after I use the hand mixer for my cocoa coffee concoctions in my particular pitcher (take that, coffee frothers), when I wash it I submerse it in soapy water and let it spin. But this once, I accidentally had my right hand right near the spinning blades. I was holding the handle in my left hand (I know, I know), which suddenly spasmed (I know, I know), and then my right hand spasmed (I know, right?) and suddenly my third finger had touched a blade for a nanosecond before I lifted my left thumb off the button.
Nanoseconds are long when you're getting wounded.
And so, there's a tiny chunk missing off the very tip, to the right of the nail. I am absolutely amazed that's all that happened. Sloppy Luck wins again. There are enough layers of skin missing that the tiny circular wound was seeping serum after the bleeding stopped (which took a while). It now looks similar to a third degree burn.
(I have a picture. Wanna see?)
Adam, who was in California and AV teching a meeting when I called for first aid advice, said that anything deeper than a quarter of an inch would require stitches (we resorted to texting; he was surprisingly calm, but I am exasperating on a good day and he's a former EMT who has broken and flayed all his fingers over time, so). And that got me thinking about what I would do if I were alone and really injured. And I realized that in a serious major thing, my only chance, aside from the Comcast security camera dealie, would be to make friends with one of the townhouse owners right near me and call them to drive me to a hospital. There is Nicee, who has already told me that in an emergency, I could lean my head out the window and scream her name and she would come over from her place just around the corner. But I forget if she has a car. Damn, I need to go over there. She's usually out on her front walk smoking when I go for the mail. Other than waving hello and chatting, I don't remember which house is hers. Fuck. I'm screwed. I don't know why I haven't made friends with most of my neighbors since 2005.
Anyway, I can't find the specific finger bandages, so I've been using regular Band-Aids. And doing that with fingertip injuries is really fucking annoying.
When I took my shower, the bandage had to come off... but the worst thing was that I got soap in the wound. Meh.
Also, ring fingers are important. Especially when you have spastic hypertonia affecting one hand and the hand that is injured is your good hand. Good thing I taught myself to type with my first two fingers on both hands.
