I cut my finger pretty bad the other day... Monday to be exact, and no it wasn't while I was cutting tomatoes like usual. I was throwing something away in the kitchen trash, and the trash was a little full, and so I gingerly set it on the top and tried to carefully shut the cupboard door so that it wouldn't get hit by a little breeze and fall. But, I wasn't careful enough, and the trash fluttered to the floor. So, I picked it up and threw it away again, but this time, decided to push the trash down and hopefully compact it enough that it wouldn't fall again. I know, I'm lazy, but the trash has to be good and full each time I take it out or else I'd be throwing it away several times a day.
In the process of compacting the trash, there was a lid from one of those huge #10 cans (at least I think that's what they are called, the ones you get from the cannery with your food storage in it) sitting there towards the bottom, so I couldn't see it. And I jammed my finger in it. And not to get too graphic here, but I jammed it in enough that when I pulled my hand back out of the trash, the lid came out a little with it. And then the bleeding began. And bleed it did. I went through several bandaids in a short period of time. Steve asked if I needed stitches. I told him probably, but I didn't have any time for that. I was supposed to be at the kids school by 9 that morning to play the piano for her 5th grade program practice.
I got a call shortly after telling me that there was an assembly that morning, so they were going to practice the program at 1:30 instead of 9. I should have jumped on it and gone and gotten stitches right then, but the bleeding was beginning to slow, so I decided against it. Besides, I had a meeting at 12 at my house, and I needed to do some cleaning.
After going through some more band aids, I got the brilliant idea (Ok, so it was Steve's idea) to put a wad of gauze under the bandaid followed by a second bandaid. That way, I wouldn't go through as many. And it worked quite well. However, once I played the piano with it, there was no use, I was bleeding through that and getting little blotches of red on the piano keys. Don't worry, I cleaned up after myself when I was done.
So later that night (which was the soonest I could do it - program practice went until the end of school, and then I had two hours of piano lessons to do) around six I dropped Melissa off at dance and then headed up to Instacare to get some stitches. I was still bleeding through bandaids at this point. When I walked into the Instacare, there were three people in the waiting room, and there was a sign on the wall that said there would be an hour wait. So then when I was checking in, two of the three people from the waiting room got called back. Which left me and one other person. After getting checked in, I called Steve and told him they said it would be an hour, so he would have to pick Melissa up from dance. I figured that I would be better off telling him to expect an hour, and then be surprised when it took less time.
So, shortly after sitting down, the movie 'Enchanted' started playing opening credits and all. I could hear the nurses whispering about erasing the board and changing the time, and after a little deliberation, they decided to change it. I was thinking oh good, I was right, I may get out of here quicker than the hour that was posted. However, after the nurse changed the wait time and stepped away, it said 90 min. NINETY MINUTES! Not the 30 I was anticipating. And then I hear the receptionist say, "No, that's not quite right..." Followed by the nurse saying, "You think?" Followed by me saying to myself, "Yeah, we think, lower that baby!"
So the nurse walks over, changes the time, steps away and it says 2 hr. And it was no exageration. I nearly finished the ENTIRE movie before I got called back to see the doctor. On a side note, when the nurse tells you to stand on the scale to be weighed and then says, "Oh, you can leave your jacket on." As you are taking it off, it's like "Yeah, right, I am going to take off not only my jacket, but my shoes, and sweater. In fact I'd get nacked if it was a little more private and I weren't such a prude."
So then when the doctor takes a look at my finger, she says that if I would have come in right after it happened, she would have done stitches, but when you wait so long, to do stitches it increases your chances of infection or blah, blah, blah... So, she was just going to do some Dermabond on it - skin superglue. I asked her how it would hold up because I was going to be playing the piano quite a bit this week. She said that it would hold up just fine. She said that it usually takes a little over a week for the glue to come off with normal skin flaking. Then she goes literally on and on about how she's known some people that even after a week are trying to scrape the stuff off. "This stuff is great, it's basically like superglue. Once you glue it, it's stuck for the duration."
So when I left the doctor's office with my finger all glued up, I was confident that I would be alright. So you can imagine my shock when this morning only two days later, from having the finger glued, the glue is completely off. Gone, 100% no where in sight. It's probably somewhere in my sheets. Or my mouth because maybe I suck my fingers when I sleep. Not really, but how else do you account for the fact that the glue is gone?
I have been watching that show "Lie to me" on Fox. Have you seen it? The idea comes from a book called "Blink" by Malcom Gladwell. In it (the book) it talks about this guy who can tell from the get go if someone is lying. He has broken down hundreds of different facial features, body language and hand gestures that people do subconsciencely. One of the things that it mentions is the fact that when people are lying, women in particular, they tend to give too much detail. So, now I am wondering if the doctor in going on and on about the stupid Dermabond crap was lying to me. Was she giving too much detail trying to convince me that she was giving me the proper care, and just making stuff up or what? Cause she was wrong, big time, that glue is gone, and my finger is not by any means miraculously healed.