So remember that time I filleted my finger? What I failed to mention was that I fixed my finger myself. As in, once the crying and hyperventilating stopped, I washed it with water, slapped on some antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it in a bandage. I had a few reasons for my DIY finger fix - it was a Sunday so the only place to get medical attention was the emergency room (and the emergency room is a stabby place to be); I was home alone so I would have to take a cab (I hate taking cabs); I wasn't wearing any clothes (before I started chopping the potatoes I was painting the bedroom and I don't own any grungy painting clothes so I paint naked. What?) Plus, I have a visceral fear of needles. Like, I tear up when I see a needle. I don't even want to see a picture of a needle. The word needle makes my stomach clenchy.
Yesterday marked the tenth day since my fingertipectomy and my wound was still bleeding. Not a lot, mind you, just a constant ooze to remind me to never sharpen my knives again (and to prevent me from having to wash any dishes - whee!) So I spent my lunch break in a walk-in clinic where I was treated to the music of Star Wars in the waiting room (so random) and a stern lecture from the doctor about wounds and bacteria and going to the emergency room even though emergency rooms are full of bacteria and shouty people and needles. (*shudder*)
It wasn't a horrible visit. My tetanus vaccination is up to date - thanks Stella! - so there were no needles involved. The doctor just made sure I wasn't oozing any pus and then stuck on a bandage that acts as an artificial stitch (note to self: if you cut yourself again, don't go to the doctor until the 6-hour window of being able to get traditional stitches has passed - artificial stitches are needle-free!)
I still cuss when I accidentally use my finger (left index finger, if you're wondering) but now that it's actually healing, the pain isn't so bad. Which means that I will probably have to start washing dishes again soon. *sigh*