I Am a Walking Calamity, Part II

Remember how I said a while back that I am a walking calamity? Well, not wanting to let anyone down, I struck again last night.

Whilst using a big butcher knife from the dollar store, I managed to hack a pretty deep gash in my fingertip and into my fingernail. In the midst of all my panicking and squawking and flailing, I managed to fling blood all over the dining room and the guest bathroom as well. After I calmed down and stopped paintng the walls red, my first thought was, "Knives from the dollar store aren't supposed to cut people!" Guess it showed me.

Had I gone to the hospital, the doctors would have probably obliged and put a stitch or two in my finger, for the bargain price of my emergency room co-pay of $75. But this whole incident happened after midnight, and so sitting in the ER waiting room at College Town Regional Medical Center with all the alcohol-poisoned freshmen was not my idea of a fun Saturday night. I also have a weird thing about wanting to be stitched up by plastic surgeons because I harbor some sort of delusion that it would make me scar less severely. And I seriously doubt CTRMC has a plastic surgeon on duty at midnight on a Saturday.

Since I managed to get the bleeding to stop and ghetto-rigged a gauze bandage, I figured I could wait until Monday when I could go to the student health center on campus for free. Ha, insurance schminsurance.

Early this morning, I headed to CVS for better bandaging supplies. I was right proud of the job I did closing and taping and gauzing my finger up. "LST," I thought to myself, "Other than the fact that you almost puked at the sight of your own finger laid open and then thought that holding it under running water would somehow stop the bleeding, medical school may actually have been your calling."

Unfortunately, my fantastic intentions for catching up on my Media Law outline this weekend were stymied, as my typing skills have slowed to the speed of molasses. Though somehow I still managed to blog. Hm.