Please, No More Hospital Visits

Last night (Sunday) at about 9:40 I boldly announced to Be, "You need to take me to the emergency room!" I had just washed out the cut in my finger and had seen that the gash was long enough and deep enough to need stitches.

You see, I was ripping a board on my radial arm saw to help secure the new top for our "entertainment center" and I accidentally cut my left index finger. But before we could go, I had to set the TV to record the rest of the football game I was watching, and Be had to wait a minute for the cupcakes she was cooking to finish. Then she had to spend a little time finding her purse. I wrapped my finger in an old towel and kept pressure on it until the nurse in the triage area removed it and said that I had done a good job of stopping the flow of blood. Stopping the flow was of some concern since I am on a therapeutic level of coumadin.

We checked in to the ER, then waited for four others before me to get patched up. One was a young girl who had several stab wounds, and whom the police were questioning as she waited and then went into the area where one sees the doctor. We finally made it in and then waited some more. A nurse came and looked at it. Then a PA came and looked at it. Then he apologized and said he had to go sew up someone else first. We waited long enough that we both had to go use the bathroom, and Be finally went out to the Toyota and got a book. I started trying to solve a math problem for the Problem of the Week contest. Finally the PA came and started sewing the gash back together. It took five stitches, and as he was finishing a doctor came in. Can you believe that his name was Dr. Henry Higgins? At about this time I fainted! I thought I was having a good nap but I woke up to find Dr. Higgins in my face and Be fanning me with a very small piece of paper. I was SO embarrassed.

They took an x-ray to see if the bone was damaged (it was not) and gave me a tetanus shot. Then we had to wait for my blood pressure to come back up. We finally got home about 2:30 am. And poor Be had to drive to Goldthwaite and back today. She was taking Gay Barton there to meet her son David Hancock. Fortunately Lenna was able to go with Be to help her stay awake on the way home. When I started writing this, they had just arrived home.

So the Lord took care of us again. I may have to change my sign at the church's building to: "Gracious God, thank you that I am still alive today and that I still have all of my fingers."