Friday, October 4, 2013

Call 911, Not me

My first major in college was biology.  I was going to be pre-med.  I was going to save lives or find out what ended them by getting into forensic medicine.   I took all kinds of science classes.  I even took an anatomy class and dissected a cadaver.

What I didn't do?  I didn't take a class involving people actually bleeding.

Almost done with my sophomore year, I realized I was going to be going to school a really long time, owe a lot of money and eat a lot of P&J sandwiches.  Unless…I switched my major to business and let the company I worked for pay for it.

That is how I ended up with a Bachelor of Science - in Business Management.

I have always felt like a sellout.  I picked the bottom line and easy street over doing something meaningful and rewarding….and hard.

That is until this month.

This month we had two accidents requiring us to go to the ER.  Both involving blood, making me realize that I wouldn't have made it in medical school.

In fact, now I realize I am pretty much useless in any emergency situation.  When I purchase emergency row seats on an airplane, they shouldn't be asking me if I can lift 30 pounds.  They should ask if I stay calm and don’t faint.

And then immediately move me to the back of the plane.

Situation #1 involved my 18 month falling on our hardwood floors, flat on his nose. Blood was everywhere. I ran screaming “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” to the bathroom and stood there a moment before realizing my husband and son were in the kitchen.

By the time I got to the kitchen, the hubby had gone through several towels trying to get the bleeding to stop. I, being the supermom I think I am, took over attempts to get it to slow down and tried to calm my son.  For like a minute.  Then I told my husband I felt woozy and he instructed me to sit down and put my head between my legs and breathe.

Fortunately he was able to get the bleeding to stop.  Unfortunately, my son’s nose immediately proceeded to swell up 3 times its original size.  So, off we went to the ER to confirm it wasn't broken. It wasn't.

Situation #2 involved my losing battle with a mandolin slicer.  I cut off a small part of the tip of my thumb.   After not being able to stop the heavy blood flow for over 30 minutes, we decided to go to the ER.

Again, I gave another stellar and brave performance during a crisis.   This time when I felt woozy, I refused to sit in the chair as I was pretty confident the chair was only going to reduce the height of my fall when I fainted, not if I fainted.

I laid down on the cold kitchen tile, thanking the plastic baby Jesus for allowing me to live long enough to see my child born.   My husband didn't know what to think.   I just cut off the tip of my thumb, not my entire hand including a major artery.

He was wonderful and held ice to my head until I felt OK enough to sit up.  Then I took the towel off my thumb and started the whole, “I am coming to see you Elizabeth!” act from Sanford and Sons all over again.  Wow…showing my age with that reference.

My dear 18 month old didn't know what to think.  If I cried, he cried.  I tried to put on a brave face, so not to traumatize him.  Eventually, he laid on the floor with me staring at the ceiling.  For a moment.  Then he decided sitting on me playing with his cars (while I moaned) was more fun.

So there we were.  Me on the floor, holding my thumb.  My son sitting on my stomach, holding matchbox cars.  My husband, holding an ice pack on my head.

It was finally time to take me somewhere to help stop the insanity bleeding.

After piling me and my son in the car, my husband ran back inside the house to make sure we had everything.  That is when it happened.

I finally fainted, as promised.

Here is the thing about passing out.  I actually have the best dreams when it happens.  I have dreams that seem to go on for hours, but really only last about 60 seconds.  On this day, I dreamed were all trick or treating for Halloween.  I was little disappointed when a came to and there wasn't a bag of Skittles anywhere in sight.

Of course fainting meant I let go of the towel covering my thumb and woke up in a pool of blood.

Queue the circle of drama again.

In an effort to shorten this story, the hospital got the bleeding to stop, I will live and eventually the part I cut off will grow back. But I learned a lesson this month.

Need to be somewhere on time?  Call me.
Need to set up your wireless router?  Call me.
Need a shoulder to cry on?  Call me.
Need someone to help in a crisis situation, involving blood?  Don't call me.  You will be screwed.

You will die.


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3 comments:

  1. LoL I am the exact opposite and I become slightly militant when there is a crisis...

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  2. I am sad to say I am with you here, I cannot deal with blood. Not even my own. My son fell a few years ago and busted his lip, I passed out trying to help him. Good thing my Mom was there otherwise he would have been traumatized.

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  3. Thank you for sharing this blood. It made me smile!

    ReplyDelete