I was planning on posting again yesterday because I eventually got over my cookie fix freak-out. I felt like MAYBE I'd made SVH out to be the bad guy... although he doesn't deny he DID take the cookies. He also said that they were absolutely half-gone, no matter what I say.
However, as we were finishing up at work, Carl (SVH) suddenly shouted that he'd cut his thumb badly with a pair of pruners. It still makes me a little bit sick to remember the feeling of hearing that. My stomach dropped. I threw him a huge wad of paper towels, and said, "Hospital?" He said, "Yes. Go." I ran and grabbed my keys and we left everything as it was and took off for the ER. He's very calm and collected, and despite the fact that I felt that icky sicky feeling in my gut, it definitely kept me calm, too. Calm enough to kind of chuckle in the car that it's probably unusual that a woman as pregnant as me running into the hospital ISN'T the one in need of care.
It turns out he didn't hit any bone, but he did cut off a pretty big chunk- the diameter of the tip of my thumb for certain. It hurt and it throbs now, and he got a tetanus booster along with getting patched up with some surgical foam, but he's fine, I'm fine, we're fine, everyone's fine here. How are you?
The ER can be a disturbing place. A little toddler came in, cradled by her mother with lots of blood on her face, which was so upsetting, but then they came out after getting her cleaned up and it turned out she had just tripped and bonked her head in just the right way... it would only need a couple of stitches, and she was fine. Still, scary. I can't believe I was pre-med once upon a time. I've gotten soft since my college days of shadowing doctors.
Such a day. We had been at the hospital earlier in the day for my weekly appointment, and I'm pleased to report the head is down, and the weight of the baby's head is starting to work it's magic on my birthin' machinery. It's good to know that this child will eventually be born. Last time I was in, I was told everything was closed for business. So we're getting very comfortable with the hospital grounds. I'm sure we'll be quite ready when the baby comes.
*"The Tippers" is what my father-in-law and sister-in-law (not the Sleepy-Voiced Sister who visited us at Thanksgiving) call themselves because of their penchant for cutting themselves much as Carl did yesterday. It's a common event over the holidays, when my father-in-law spends a lot of time in the wood shop. The first time it happened when I was there, I was a little surprised that the Monopoly game continued, with louder music and more drinks once he was on his way to the hospital, but now I know that they all have the drill down so well that there's nothing left to do but reminisce about all the other times it's happened. Anyway, I think SVH is a member of the club now.