That's me. Well - accident prone, anyway. Or a walking disaster just looking for a place to happen. (This one's not funny folks just painful.)
At work last Thursday we started setting some bamboo canes (used for marking). They supposed to be new for every new job. Sometimes cheapskate companies (or site supervisors on the fiddle) try and get away with using old ones. Usually you can spot these (they're grubby) but not always. I got an old one on Thursday. In fact I got one that was rotten right through (but didn't look it). As I leaned forward to push it into the ground it shattered. Off balance I fell forward. Right onto the end of the cane, which shattered some more. I was just damn' glad I had safety glasses on.
Bamboo is bloody sharp. It sliced a nice deep (and at an angle) gouge across my chin right up to my lip. And a shorter one (about half the size) parallel to it. It also slashed my cheek and left several large pieces embedded in it. I whipped those out immediately. Unfortunately I couldn't get all the tiny bits out of the main wound. It was bleeding too much. Boy was it bleeding!!
I went into the portakabin and I looked in the mirror and said, "Damn!! That's going to need stitches." I got as much dirt out of it as I could and said to the foreman, "I think I need to sign-out for the day. If I'm quick I can catch the next bus to town."
He said several rude words and informed me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't getting the bus, was I stupid or something, he would drive me. I was glad of that. Ten minutes in the car, thirty-five on the bus to the hospital, and as I'd already soaked through three paper towels... well... you can see the headlines
Painter bleeds to death on the number H2 bus. Not good.
So I wound up in A&E again. I was lucky. There were only three other people in the department and none were as injured as I was so the triage nurse scheduled me to be seen first. A nice young man (he looked way too young to be a qualified doctor!!) called me into the cubicle and informed me he was the
registrar. He looked at my chin and confirmed my guess - it needed stitches. The cheek wound was small and just needed cleaning but the parallel slices needed work. A quick jab with a needle full of something cold which stung and then he washed the wounds. Once he was sure it was clean he stitched it. Seven stitches in the main wound, two in the shorter one. Then he gave me some cream which he said would help prevent serious scarring. It will scar, there's no hope of it not, but there's a chance I can minimise it. "Keep it clean and dry" he said. How?? I thought.
Friday I couldn't go to work.
I also found that I couldn't eat. Hell, I couldn't even clean my teeth!! The swelling was so bad. By Saturday evening I could (carefully) clean my teeth (thank God!!) but I still couldn't chew. I love tomato soup, really I do, but by Sunday night I was sick of the sight of it.
The swelling has all gone now and this evening I got to eat a real dinner. With potatoes and carrots and spinach and I've never enjoyed a meal more!! (Ok - hyperbole there, I admit, but it
was good.)
I get the stitches out on Thursday. I can't wait.
Ze
