Timex Man Redux
Was going to write up an interesting story. Dad has printer issues and he can't afford to pay someone else. Bunny needs to be fed. Time for bed. You get the short version. Maybe I will edit and write the whole thing out tomorrow (assuming I can still type).
My hand is now swelling to the size of my ego. It stopped oozing this morning. It is scabbed over and infected. I am slowly losing mobility of my index finger. I am swollen from the second knuckle to the thumb joint and then over at a sharp angle to the ring finger. It is becoming difficult to move my middle finger.
Went to the Dr. He wants to see me again tomorrow. I have prescriptions for two antibiotics. I received an antibiotic injection. Nothing broken and the tendon appears fine. The infection scares them...a lot. I'm weathering it all as best I can. The pain is nothing much: they didn't understand when I told them the Baron Tymis beats up on me weekly and I wrestle Magnus Krane...they also don't have much appreciation for Highland Games.
More tomorrow.
EDIT: The whole story told...
First, since this is public and not everyone knows, I was stabbed in the right index finger. I am mostly fine. It was an accident.
Yesterday the swelling in my hand escalated drastically regardless of ice or elevation. I lost mobility in my index finger and it turned a jaudiced color. I decided medical attention was smart. I set myself up with CareNow on-line. I expressed my injury as: Puncture wound approximately 1cm wide, between second and third knuckle of index finger, with swelling of the hand.
CareNow calls you to confirm the appointment and get any additional information they need. They called shortly after I entered my check-in. They wanted to know the cause of the injury.
ME: It's a long story.
NURSE: Give me the short version.
ME: I was stabbed.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: With a sword.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was an accident.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was during a fight.
NURSE: You were in a fight?
ME: It was fake.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was staged...stage combat...
NURSE: [silence]
ME: I'm a Renaissance Faire actor.
NURSE: Ohhh...okay.
Why do people ask for the short answer and then demand details until they get the long story?
After work I attended the clinic. I clumsily tried to fill out a sign-in form while balancing a luke-warm cup of their complimentary coffee in my good hand. The administrator (we'll call her V. Darling or just Darling...she was very nice and played back when I gave her a hard time) said I didn't need to fill out the card unless I was a walk-in. Was I a walk-in? As I was answering in the negative she saw my hand and smiled broadly
"You're the Renaissance sword guy," she said.
After a quick flurry of paper I was seated to watch Shrek the Third while I waited. It didn't take long. They escorted me back for weight, heart rate, temperature, et al. The nurse was on the edge of laughing the whole time. She was trying so hard to remain professional.
NURSE: How tall are you?
ME: Five-foot, eight. [seeing the scale] You know my shoes add 60 pounds.
NURSE: [sets scale to 150]
ME: [adjusting the scale] You really want to start at 200 and work back. It'll take less time.
NURSE: [glare while fighting a smile]
ME: [setting scale back to 150] Suit yourself.
NURSE: [picking up heart monitor device-thingy] I need a finger for this.
ME: I'm not sure I'm your best candidate. You know why I'm here, right?
NURSE: [glaring with small smile]
ME: [offers index finger of good hand] Ooh! That tickles!
NURSE: [slides alien probe across my forehead] I'm just going to run this across...
ME: [giggling and shaking heart rate thingy] It tickles!
NURSE: [talking through her smile] ...your forehead for temperature. We're done.
ME: How much do I weigh?
NURSE: [taking back tickly heart rate torture device with a smile] One, twenty-seven without your shoes.
She finally got the necessary measurements and then seated me in a little room near the admin station.
NURSE: What happened.
ME: I was stabbed.
NURSE: With what?
ME: A sword.
NURSE: Intentionally?
ME: Well...yes...and no. I mean...it was stage combat, so...
NURSE: Stage combat?
ME: Yeah...you swing swords at each other and pretend to fight. But... [holding up hand] ...accidents happen.
NURSE: And that's your job? Why is this not Worker's Comp.?
ME: No. I don't get paid for it.
NURSE: [incredulous] It's just for fun?
ME: It's fun until there's an accident. Then it's fun with battle scars and a great story.
NURSE: On a scale of one to ten, where's your pain?
ME: I don't really feel pain on your scale. Most people would probably call this at least a seven. The Baron Tymis beats up on me once a weekend...this doesn't even tickle.
NURSE: Who?
ME: Big guy. Trust me. I won't need pain medication.
She got some pertinent information about the wound and left. The door was open. Shrek was about to die. I was quickly bored. I rolled around on the Dr.'s stool. Finally Joan came in.
JOAN: What happened?
Anyone else notice that I was recognized upon entering, but everyone wants to hear the story?
ME: Sir Henry Norrys stabbed me.
JOAN: How?
ME: His sword was on-line.
JOAN: Sword?
ME: Yeah. See...when you are choreographing a stage fight you actually stab off the center line. You'll never hit the other guy that way. [I demonstrate a proper thrust] Sometimes we get excited in a fight and fall back on instinct. His sword was on-line and I blocked it with my finger.
JOAN: Why?
ME: It was an accident. Besides...I could have blocked it with my navel.
JOAN: ...
ME: [innocent face]
Joan then examines the finger and hand. We make a fist and straighten and she prods and looks at the scab and asks some questions.
There was a discussion about sticking needles in my ass. I'll spare you the details. The X-Ray tech came and asked for the story all over again. I got some X-Rays in weird positions. My hand was in weird positions, you perverts!
I went back to wait in the little room. They drew copious amounts of blood so they can clone me later. The nurse came in and gave me a shot in my hip (I don't take anything in the butt). She insisted I lie still or I would pass out. I did calisthenics to prove a point.
I have prescriptions for two antibiotics, which I am going to fill when I finish typing this (the pharmacy wasn't open when I started). I am going in tonight for a second appointment, and they want me to see a hand specialist. The hand is swollen past the first two knuckles now and it's less mobile. My index finger is dark yellow. The wound was seeping after my shower this morning. It's dry again now.
My hand is now swelling to the size of my ego. It stopped oozing this morning. It is scabbed over and infected. I am slowly losing mobility of my index finger. I am swollen from the second knuckle to the thumb joint and then over at a sharp angle to the ring finger. It is becoming difficult to move my middle finger.
Went to the Dr. He wants to see me again tomorrow. I have prescriptions for two antibiotics. I received an antibiotic injection. Nothing broken and the tendon appears fine. The infection scares them...a lot. I'm weathering it all as best I can. The pain is nothing much: they didn't understand when I told them the Baron Tymis beats up on me weekly and I wrestle Magnus Krane...they also don't have much appreciation for Highland Games.
More tomorrow.
EDIT: The whole story told...
First, since this is public and not everyone knows, I was stabbed in the right index finger. I am mostly fine. It was an accident.
Yesterday the swelling in my hand escalated drastically regardless of ice or elevation. I lost mobility in my index finger and it turned a jaudiced color. I decided medical attention was smart. I set myself up with CareNow on-line. I expressed my injury as: Puncture wound approximately 1cm wide, between second and third knuckle of index finger, with swelling of the hand.
CareNow calls you to confirm the appointment and get any additional information they need. They called shortly after I entered my check-in. They wanted to know the cause of the injury.
ME: It's a long story.
NURSE: Give me the short version.
ME: I was stabbed.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: With a sword.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was an accident.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was during a fight.
NURSE: You were in a fight?
ME: It was fake.
NURSE: [silence]
ME: It was staged...stage combat...
NURSE: [silence]
ME: I'm a Renaissance Faire actor.
NURSE: Ohhh...okay.
Why do people ask for the short answer and then demand details until they get the long story?
After work I attended the clinic. I clumsily tried to fill out a sign-in form while balancing a luke-warm cup of their complimentary coffee in my good hand. The administrator (we'll call her V. Darling or just Darling...she was very nice and played back when I gave her a hard time) said I didn't need to fill out the card unless I was a walk-in. Was I a walk-in? As I was answering in the negative she saw my hand and smiled broadly
"You're the Renaissance sword guy," she said.
After a quick flurry of paper I was seated to watch Shrek the Third while I waited. It didn't take long. They escorted me back for weight, heart rate, temperature, et al. The nurse was on the edge of laughing the whole time. She was trying so hard to remain professional.
NURSE: How tall are you?
ME: Five-foot, eight. [seeing the scale] You know my shoes add 60 pounds.
NURSE: [sets scale to 150]
ME: [adjusting the scale] You really want to start at 200 and work back. It'll take less time.
NURSE: [glare while fighting a smile]
ME: [setting scale back to 150] Suit yourself.
NURSE: [picking up heart monitor device-thingy] I need a finger for this.
ME: I'm not sure I'm your best candidate. You know why I'm here, right?
NURSE: [glaring with small smile]
ME: [offers index finger of good hand] Ooh! That tickles!
NURSE: [slides alien probe across my forehead] I'm just going to run this across...
ME: [giggling and shaking heart rate thingy] It tickles!
NURSE: [talking through her smile] ...your forehead for temperature. We're done.
ME: How much do I weigh?
NURSE: [taking back tickly heart rate torture device with a smile] One, twenty-seven without your shoes.
She finally got the necessary measurements and then seated me in a little room near the admin station.
NURSE: What happened.
ME: I was stabbed.
NURSE: With what?
ME: A sword.
NURSE: Intentionally?
ME: Well...yes...and no. I mean...it was stage combat, so...
NURSE: Stage combat?
ME: Yeah...you swing swords at each other and pretend to fight. But... [holding up hand] ...accidents happen.
NURSE: And that's your job? Why is this not Worker's Comp.?
ME: No. I don't get paid for it.
NURSE: [incredulous] It's just for fun?
ME: It's fun until there's an accident. Then it's fun with battle scars and a great story.
NURSE: On a scale of one to ten, where's your pain?
ME: I don't really feel pain on your scale. Most people would probably call this at least a seven. The Baron Tymis beats up on me once a weekend...this doesn't even tickle.
NURSE: Who?
ME: Big guy. Trust me. I won't need pain medication.
She got some pertinent information about the wound and left. The door was open. Shrek was about to die. I was quickly bored. I rolled around on the Dr.'s stool. Finally Joan came in.
JOAN: What happened?
Anyone else notice that I was recognized upon entering, but everyone wants to hear the story?
ME: Sir Henry Norrys stabbed me.
JOAN: How?
ME: His sword was on-line.
JOAN: Sword?
ME: Yeah. See...when you are choreographing a stage fight you actually stab off the center line. You'll never hit the other guy that way. [I demonstrate a proper thrust] Sometimes we get excited in a fight and fall back on instinct. His sword was on-line and I blocked it with my finger.
JOAN: Why?
ME: It was an accident. Besides...I could have blocked it with my navel.
JOAN: ...
ME: [innocent face]
Joan then examines the finger and hand. We make a fist and straighten and she prods and looks at the scab and asks some questions.
There was a discussion about sticking needles in my ass. I'll spare you the details. The X-Ray tech came and asked for the story all over again. I got some X-Rays in weird positions. My hand was in weird positions, you perverts!
I went back to wait in the little room. They drew copious amounts of blood so they can clone me later. The nurse came in and gave me a shot in my hip (I don't take anything in the butt). She insisted I lie still or I would pass out. I did calisthenics to prove a point.
I have prescriptions for two antibiotics, which I am going to fill when I finish typing this (the pharmacy wasn't open when I started). I am going in tonight for a second appointment, and they want me to see a hand specialist. The hand is swollen past the first two knuckles now and it's less mobile. My index finger is dark yellow. The wound was seeping after my shower this morning. It's dry again now.