In an abortive attempt to slit his wrists (gee, abortion and suicide in one sentence) and get out of finishing the renovation on our ensuite, my dear Dave has sliced himself up and had me take him to the clinic for some arm embroidery.
It went something like this:
Dave holds exacto knife in right hand. Cuts lino tile and presses so hard that blade snaps and jagged edge of snapped blade slices left wrist. Dave takes one look, sees several layers of skin exposed and blood gushing out, and decides to stop renovations momentarily.
Wraps rag around wrist and wanders out to seek validation for work stoppage. Finds teenaged son playing video games in room and says, "Er, I could use a little help out here".
Son reluctantly pries game controller out of hand and walks over to dad.
Helps dad wrap better bandage around gushery. They add duct tape for good measure.
Dad walks out to family room to find wife (me).
"Er, could you drive me to the hospital?"
Wife sees makeshift bandage, rolls eyes (in her mind), puts on shocked and caring face, and reluctantly lets go of new love of her life (the laptop).
Wife: did you sever an artery?
Wife: a vein?
Wife: then lets go to a walk-in clinic. We don't want to sit around for 8 hours in emergency, do we?
Wife goes to put on socks/shoes and get purse and book.
Husband goes to computer to look up local clinic hours.
Husband and wife zoom off in car, find clinic, and wander in.
Nice receptionist takes Dave in even though the clinic is supposed to close in 5 minutes. Wife settle in with book. Wife know all about waiting rooms. Wife has sat in waiting rooms MANY times, waiting for husband to be taped, stitched, casted, stapled, reassembled, untangled, drugged, x-rayed, cauterized, and vasectomized. Usually not all on the same day. Anyway, wife knows to bring a book to read.
Meanwhile, doctor wanders out from treatment room, asks receptionist/nurse "Where do we keep the (makes sewing gesture) tray... for , you know, (makes sewing gesture again)...
Receptioninst: Sutures? bottom cupboard on left. (she doesn't have to think about this, but I'll bet she is tempted to make cupboard-door-opening gestures).
Doctor processes this for a moment and then wanders back to treatment room.
Doctor futzes around getting equipment ready and then brandishes bottle of disinfectant, saying, "This is going to hurt a bit."
"No it's not," says Dave, "It's going to hurt a LOT", and he grips the table.
Doctor pours disinfectant into gaping flesh, and Dave grits teeth.
Doctor gives Dave shot, to freeze arm for suturing.
Doctor makes 3 sutures and starts to tidy up.
"Wait a minute", says Dave (voice of experience), "those are pretty big spaces! That'll rip apart in no time!"
Doctor: "You've got to take it easy with that arm."
Doctor looks at Dave and makes 3 more sutures in between other sutures.
Dave is released to care of wife who asks, "Did you get a prescription for pain killers?".
"No, I don't need any pain killers", says Dave. "Hey can we stop at the liquor store?"
Wife rolls eyes (in her mind AND on her face) and stops at liquor store. Offers to go in, even.
Dave leaps from car and goes in, buys bottle of gin, and comes out all smiles.
Back at it again, this time with exacto knife AND nail gun. I'm keeping my socks on.
(By the way, both pictures were taken post-injury, with wound already stitched and taped up.)
The bathroom is coming along nicely.