no trip to b-school is complete without a visit to the ER

Ours happened on a Tuesday night, about a month ago now. I had arrived home from having dinner with a couple of the partners around the same time B was returning from class. We took the elevator up to the apartment together.

I offered B my half of sandwich that I hadn't been able to finish and some mashed potatoes that had also been packed in my doggie bag. He was still hungry, so decided to have some cheese. We had a nice Irish Cheddar in the fridge.

We were sitting at the dining table sharing stories of our day when it happened. He cut himself with the cheese slicer. He yelped in pain.

I was a bit stunned and not sure how bad it was, although I quickly summed up that this wasn't a little scratch. He was bleeding pretty badly, and thankfully my first aid training kicked in. I found him some napkins and then got a clean wash cloth so he could apply pressure.

He was in pain and a bit panicky, so had started pacing about, of course leaving drops of red everywhere including a brand new towel. It didn't really matter to me at that point, and really I didn't notice until the next day.

I asked him if he wanted to go to the ER, already knowing the answer as I was putting on my coat and gathering my purse. As my iPod shuffle was right there, I put it in my bag in case I needed soothing during this ordeal.

Meanwhile I gave B an Excedrin and a glass of water, and helped him get his coat on. We headed downstairs and confirmed with the staff at the desk that the nearest hospital was Northwestern. For some reason I got it in my head that we would drive, but was told we should just hop in a cab. I guess I forget I live in the big city sometimes.

So we went downstairs and hopped in a cab. The whole experience was surreal. Normally these guys run red lights, make unsafe lane changes, and basically drive erratically. But tell a cab driver you need to go to the ER, and it is like they think you are with the licensing board, and it is exam time. But we made it there without incident, and I was now truly thankful that I hadn't had dessert, as it meant we had cab fare.

Of course the cabbie dropped us off at the wrong entrance, so we had to go around the long way. B seemed to be holding up okay, and once we got inside, they saw him almost immediately. While I was standing there watch the nurse take his vitals, a plastic surgeon walked over to me and asked if I was the patient who needed plastic surgery. It really felt like I had gone through the looking glass.

It is interesting to note too that before they even started, they made sure to get his name and information. Then once it was determined he wasn't going to bleed out, they sent him over to talk to someone about his insurance information. Of course in the rush, he somehow forgot his card. So they gave him a post it note with a number to call with his information. Then it was time to sit and wait.

Fortunately he was called fairly quickly. We were lucky that it was a slow night. I stayed in the waiting room while he went past the authorized personnel doors. Normally I am not squimish around blood, but when it is someone I know it freaks me out.

That is when I remembered I had bought my shuffle, and boy was I glad. Across me sat two gentleman who were having the most interesting of conversations. As best I could tell they had brought in a buddy who had probably overdosed on drugs and/or alcohol. While they were waiting the one shared his story of the week he spent in prison.

This came up because initially they were talking about food. Apparently it is hard to find a cheap meal around the hospital that is also filling, especially given the hour. And so the one guy explained to the other how he has always been a big eater, although he doesn't gain weight. So when he was in prison, he managed to get the doctor to put him on a high protein diet, which meant he got two servings of everything at each meal. He said if he hadn't, he wouldn't have survived. Oh, yes, it was a fun night.

B finally emerged from behind the automatic doors, and we were free to go home. He thankfully didn't need stitches, but it took over an hour for them to get the bleeding to stop, and even then, it still wasn't completely stopped. His thumb had a big wad of gauze bandage neatly tied around it.

We hailed another cab and headed home. Both fares were exactly the same. Again, we got a driver who obeyed the rules of the road. What are odds of that happening?

B is doing fine. He found his extra bandage today in the car, and it reminded me of the incident. I told him he had probably gotten all the sympathy he was going to get from the bandages, so it was time to toss them.

And for the record, I tossed the offending cheese slicer. And the blood came out of the brand new towel.

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