Of all the many years I have been a Chef, I have only cut myself one time, up until yesterday. Last night I severed the top of my thumb, and in the ensuing blood and outer calm/inner tumult, I blacked out. I am lucky in many ways. First, I held my thumb up over my head and applied pressure, and as I began to notice the sounds of ocean waves in my ears and my vision dimming inward toward my pupils, I had the presence of mind to sit down at the table, while still keeping my thumb elevated. Second, I am lucky all my EFR ( Emergency First Response) training came back after I woke up: I never panicked, and I thought slowly and rationally about what I should do. (Select the "read more" button) Some time passed, it might have been 5 minutes or 30, and I awoke to a green light blinking in my face and wondering why I had left me computer on. Then I realized my computer lights are blue and that I was face down on the floor. A very dirty floor! That bothered me more than anything. I remember thinking "Oh, no! I'm on the floor and it is filthy--" then the the sharp tide of pain started rolling in to my conscious mind and I no longer cared about the floor. Curiously, my ankle and foot really hurt. My right arm was folded up, crushed beneath my chest. Somehow I had managed not to land on my thumb although my left arm was juxtaposed under my body with my hand jutting out from the right side, in a congealed pool of blood. (You think that's gross? I took pictures of my injuries, but no, I am NOT posting the one of my thumb or eye!) As pain signals from different areas started breaking through to wake me fully, I decided I didn't really care how dirty the floor was. I had fallen out of the chair and wedged myself half under the table. I rolled over on my back, wincing as I disentangled my leg from the other chairs and noticing from somewhere that seemed far off that my face really hurt now too. I lie on the floor, and held my thumb up and considered what to do. I thought about crying, but I was still enough enough shock that the pain was not too great. Yet. I lie on the floor for several minute, listening to the sounds outside of cars passing and dogs barking (the effing dogs bark in this neighborhood non-stop, night and day! aargh! They are barking now, even as I type this 16 hours later!) I wondered if my roommate would come home and help me. I wondered who would help me. That's when a few tears managed to manifest before I realized that it would have to be me helping myself. I also realized that if she were to walk in with me on the floor with blood everywhere, that she would freak out, so I had better get up and get myself together so as not to make the situation worse. As I sat up and assessed myself, I noticed my thumb had stopped bleeding but my hand was covered in dried blood, and that my right foot was purple with bruises, which I have yet to figure out how that happened. The heavy wood dining table was askew and I had previously slid the chair I was sitting on away as it had pinned me in under the table and near the corner (which is where the router sits on the floor, blinking it's swampy green lights). I thought of friends and family to call as I slowly stood, looking around at the clock, seeing that it was 5:30pm, in the middle of rush hour traffic and that it would take my nearest friend nearly an hour to get here so what would be the point of calling. As I glanced at the stove clock, I was thankful I had turned off the two gas burners almost immediately after realizing how deep I had sliced my thumb. Gazing at the upset table and chairs, I was grateful I had gotten a concussion on the way down, or worse, that I had not fallen from a standing position onto the hard tile floor in the kitchen. That was when my eye began to call out for attention, and the mirror showed my a purpling cheekbone and scrapes by my eye. At that point, I was grateful I hadn't put out my eye. I finished my self assessment, called my roommate-- who directed me to her first aid kit, and proceeded to disinfect my thumb and bandage it up. I grabbed several bags of ice (a bag of frozen pineapples, a frozen water bottle, and more frozen fruit) and went to lie down and ice my ankle, my thumb, and my eye. That helped because today, the folloiwng morning, there is only minor bruising on my face and leg, and I'm not in too much pain. I did, however, discover another contusion on my jaw, so whatever I hit--I hit it hard, with the entire left side of my face!
I'm surprised I sliced myself so good. Of course, I was being careless by using a too-small cutting board, being in a hurry for no good reason, and cutting with my hands bent at an angle instead of cutting straight on. Having a background in medicine does not make me immune to the sight of blood, but hey, I used to look at autopsy pictures over lunch, so I don't consider myself squeamish. I think the shock and the pain, along with lifting up the top of my thumb like you lift the lid of a can you just opened, or like a man lifts his hat to tip it as a woman passes (ah, those medieval chivalrous times, if only...), made me pass out. Why am I writing all of this? Well, I find it interesting; the scientist in me still surfaces and I find my physiological reactions worth noting. It all seemed to happen quickly, and at the same time, I can remember pieces in vivid slow motion, like coming to on the floor and seeing an orange object (a bag of Arm & Hammer baking soda) and green blinking lights. Or feeling sensations of pain and the location of my body creep up slowly as I regained consciousness. I'm the type that can remain calm in an emergency, and that still surprises me. I was calm, rational, and methodical the entire time. I can even now see myself cutting into my thumb and jerking the knife back quickly as it happened, before the pain even registered, I saw what I had done. A slower response and the tip of my thumb would be entirely gone. It still may fall off, we'll see. After changing the bandage this morning, my thumb doesn't look to bad, though I still might lose the tip of it. I'll go to the store later and get a supply of bandages and antibacterial ointment and thumb rubbers; my greatest concern is that the cut remain uninfected. The second bandage wrapping was much better than the first, and I'm quite pleased with myself and the fact I have retained my nursing and EFR skills. Perhaps I did hit my head pretty hard, because I find part of this situation amusing, and my roomie thinks that's a bit crazy. I find myself lucky in many ways that it wasn't worse: the top of my thumb is still on, I turned the stove burners off, I did not injure my eyeball, and I did not get a concussion. Oh, and I'm only in real pain when I touch my face or lower leg. The Old Wives' Tale holds that bad events come in threes; well, this is #3, plus I've got three injuries, so I should be done for a while. It doesn't help to miss work, but apparently I need to rest, or so my body says, so I will listen. This takes me out of certain exercises, but I can still study. Test on Monday! Me and my thumb tip our hats to you. (See, I may have hit my head pretty hard after all! hehehe)
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