Splash (splash) wrote,
Splash
splash

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Ow.

Almost 10 year later update: This is the story of why I got 60 surgical STAPLES gored into my right leg.

A high school summer day by myself in the house, parents both at work.

The scars are still there, not nearly as clear as they were even just half a decade ago, but I can still see where each of the two holes for each staple was used to close up the wounds. VERY honestly, I don't WANT these scars to clear up any more than they have already. Great everyday reminder, and I'm extremely fortunate they are not in worse places.

I've changed quite a bit in the last 10 years. Not in my bare essentials, but just overall. Including my art lolol. Woop woop!

Original entry:
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Who's up for a little adventure story?

At about 11:30 a.m. today, I started cooking a ramen noodle brunch. I headed over toward the window where the bird feeder was (living room), and I must've slipped on the scale or something. Whatever it was, it sent my right leg straight through the window.

My first thought was "shit, I broke the window, dad's gonna be so pissed..." and then I got up, and realized how much pain I was in. My right thigh was resting on the window pane, and when I got up I inspected it to see if anything happened. I saw two huge gashes, all through the bottom width of my thigh, and they were several inches deep. I could see fat tissue and more... LOTS more.

" Double shit." My first priority was to get away from the broken glass, and I dragged myself through the family room carpet to head for the phone. I got the phone, called for mom at work, and she wasn't there. I called for dad and he answered. I told him that I was hurt really badly on my leg and I needed help, and he was on his way. At that point, I started feeling lightheaded and woozy, and I thought I would pass out. Then I noticed I was soiling the carpet with my blood and got off, pushing away some glass that looked threatening. I caught my breath on the new wooden floor (which I slightly blame for the slip... before, we had nice friction-ish carpet until we remodeled -_-) for a few minutes, then I got a new idea. I couldn't remember where I had put the phone, so I dragged myself to the one next to our kitchen and called... Paul. His mom was a nurse, I remembered that. Luckily, she was home and she said she would be at my house in a jiffy. I spent a couple minutes getting the energy to stand up to hook up the phone, then trudged toward the kitchen. I stopped at the dining room table, and saw one of dad's old white shirts on it, and realized I needed to cover up the gashes to prevent them from getting infected. I wrapped the shirt around my leg enough to cover the horrid gash. Then I wandered over to the computer room to shut off the computer (~_~; Well, I didn't want to waste energy.). Afterwards, I crawled through the kitchen, spilling blood the entire way. The kitchen lead to the front of the house, and I managed to open the door because I didn't want Mrs. Clegg to get locked out.

Then, I just breathed heavily on the ground and discovered the other new places where I was bleeding. I had another gash close to my heel (not as large, but still disturbing) and something in my right arm was bleeding, too. Although, that didn't hurt back then.

Mrs. Clegg arrived not long after, awed at the display and immediately set to her job. She found some towels and covered the wound a little more, then dialed up some rescuers to come help. When she finished the call, my dad came home. I dunno how to describe his reaction (was pretty okay?) but the two adults talked while I kept trying to hold back the pain and sink everything in my mind. The whole lot of emergency vehicles came to my house, and the medical peeps went through the procedure of checking where I was hurt. They were mainly concerned about parts in my upper body (back, head) but nothing was wrong with them. They put gauze and all that snazz on the wounds. Eventually, I was placed on a stretcher and taken to the hospital (Bronson or Borgess, I think...). And from there I spent over 3 hours in the hospital.

Mom arrived to meet us in the trauma recessitation (I can't spell it @_@) room and she was... quite panicky. She fainted after a while and was out for 5 minutes. Paul's dad was a doctor there, and that helped quite a lot. The people in the hospital were VERY nice. They gave me an X-ray before operating, which hurt... A LOT. Would have been worse without anesthetics... and Morphine? I got 6 or 8 mls of Morphine... I didn't need that much, I just needed more time for it to kick in because it lasted quite long after the surgery ^^;;;;

And the surgery? They stapled the wounds back up. Stapled. Not stitched. Who says that staples aren't great? XD

I'll be on crutches for a little bit, and the wounds were all superficial, so I've been told. The only bad news that I know of is that the growth plates are broken... T_T;;;;; Not that I care about always being short already...

On top of that, I have nasty glass cuts on the tip of the middle finger, a huge one on my ring finger, and a couple small ones on the thumb of my right hand. It hurts to type, even. I'm trying to use my index finger to compensate.

So I probably won't be able to do any decent drawing or music playing for the next week or whenever the cuts heal. After that, I should be okay. That is, if I don't get any infections in the gashes. Glass is evil...

Because of that, this will be the last art thingee for... a few days. XD I did it... this morning. And I was in the midst of updating when I got hungry and decided to eat. O_o;;

Featured pic (copy/paste or click/drag): http://takouji.fateback.com/art/Kouji05sketch.jpg
From: Digimon Frontier
Description: Another ribbon-ish Kouji. ^^;

Mrs. Clegg says I handled the situation very calmly... ^_^; I didn't scream out anytime, and the only time I let out tears was when someone applied too much pressure on the wounds. I'm surprised at myself, I hate working under high pressure but I can do it... O_o;;

One of the doctors told me that one of my gashes was about 4 cm wide, the other 2 cm and the biggest one about 9 cm. ITAAAIIIIIIII NO DA. X_X;

Paul came over at about 9-ish (he was out working at the time of the emergency) and we blabbed a bit. Paul thinks Neal would become this freaking out squealish girl if he was here. XD I wonder when he'll find out...

-Splash
Tags: health
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