A stitch in time

Sat evening, after AWESOME rugby (I should do a post on that...) I'm out, watering the garden in the coolth of the evening. Graeme is out at a work party. The kids are asleep. It's just me and my garden. I'm lovingly tending my jasmine, and weaving the new branches through the fence, when something brushes up against my side. In the dark, and over the sound of the hosepipe, I'm not sure what it is, so I get a fright, and jump towards the fence. Then there is pain - not a lot - felt like a sore pinch - on my arm, and I suddenly realise the following:

1) Graeme has come home and opened the gate.
2) The gate has me pinned between it and the fence.
3) My arm is hooked on the spikes at the top of the fence.
4) The gate is not registering my extra weight, and so is not stopping opening.

I YELL - more out of fear than pain. I'm not really in pain... it feels like just a scratch.

Graeme stops the gate.

I spot the dog outside the gate, running across the field.

I yell again.

Graeme opens the gate again - with me still hooked on the spikes.

I yell again.

The gate stops again. I quickly get myself un-hooked and finish threading one branch.

That's when I see the blood running down my arm. GASP!

Apply pressure. Run inside. Get the plasters, Dettol and cotton wool. Don't freak out - it's just blood, and not a lot of it. Right?

In the light of the kitchen, I see that I have not just been hooked on the fence. I have been impaled on it. There is a 2cm gash on my arm, and my subcutaneous fat is now on the outside of my skin.

And suddenly, it was SORE!!! And I'm trying not to throw up at the sight of what should be inside my body being outside it.

Think! Think! Think fast! What do I do? I can't touch it - my hands are full of dirt and bacteria and stuff, but I've got to get it back inside me before it gets infected or I bleed too much.

So my rational brain takes over. I disinfect it (had to take a deep breath before that one, and pretend it wasn't my own arm I was dealing with) - amidst yells of pain - attempt to seal it, and stick a plaster over it. I then noticed all the other puncture wounds - 3 on one arm and 3 on my other hand. They're not too serious, but I know I can't drive with the ones on my hand, so I have to disinfect them and plaster them up too. Then I see blood on the floor - and discover I've got another puncture wound on my foot as well. Graeme disinfects that one and plasters it up for me.

Then, quick thinking - I need to get to hospital right away and get stitches. Choice - do I wake the kids and get Graeme to drive me, or do I drive myself. It's a no-brainer really: drive myself. I'm going to be stuck in a queue for hours because this isn't urgent or life-threatening. If I wake the kids, they're either going to be miserable (and insufferable) or they're going to wake up and then we won't be able to get them BACK to sleep when we finally return home. Nope - definitely a no-brainer.

So I drive to the ER with one hand putting pressure on my arm, and the other on the steering wheel, and trying to keep my arm straight (as it seems to bleed more when I bend it).

I get there, park, and get myself admitted (which takes about half an hour). I'm then told it's at least another hour wait. At least the TV was on, but the coffee machine was broken....

After a 1.5hr wait, I'm taken through, only to have to wait some more as there's only one doctor on duty.

Once she arrives though, all is dealt with in about 15 mins. As much as I was entranced by seeing my insides on the outside, and actually fascinated by seeing my own fat tissue (I'm a biologist, remember!), I was very glad to not have to watch or feel the stitches going in. The tetanus shot I felt (OW!!!) and the 2 injections of anaesthetic I felt (OH GOD HELP ME THAT BURNS!). So I eventually got home in the early hours of Sunday morning.

What hurts most? The tetanus shot, the minor wounds on my hand, and the bruising around the wound on my arm. The actual wound itself doesn't hurt at all - unless you touch the stitches... then it hurts like hell. The skin where the hospital plaster was is also red and very sore - I think I might be slightly allergic to the adhesive, just to add to the mix.

The doc told me afterwards that I was actually VERY lucky. One cm up and I would have hit the major vein that runs in the arm - which would have meant serious bleeding (and no driving myself to hospital for that one!). In addition, if it had gone slightly deeper, I would have severed some of the nerves that run down to the hand. 

So things could have been worse - I might have lost partial use of my hand and had to have a blood transfusion. Count your blessings, eh?