Posted by Mike in MN at cache3.mayo.edu on November 15, 2003 at 18:39:19:
I remember my first visit ever to the Emergency Room. It was the day before I started kindergarten. A friend and I were playing out in the woods near our neighborhood. For some reason, we wanted to dig a hole in a small patch of dirt, but the only thing laying around to use was a hammer. So, I start striking at the dirt with the BLUNT END of the hammer.
For those of you not familiar with the standard hammer, hitting with the blunt end means the two metal tines/teeth for extracting nails are pointed back at you! In my ultimate wisdom of a 5 year old, I did not seem to notice this...until the tines dug into the sweet, virgin flesh of my young scalp! Yep - I gashed a hole in the top of my head with a hammer!
So, I start bawling like the pussy I've always been, and put my hand on top of my head. I had to walk home like a quarter mile pushing my bike with one hand while the other stayed on my head.
I do remember taking my hand down once, looking at it covered in blood, and screaming even louder all the way home!
I get home and remember walking to the bathroom where my dad was. He asks "Mike - why are you crying?" All I do is show him my hand.
We didn't go to the hospital right away. The cut was only about a centimeter long, so my dad thought we could get away without going to the doctor. Things were going good until that night...
We went to some local Barbeque restaurant for dinner - after we ate, I remember running up to the gumball machne up front. While I am looking, some guy walks by, and goes "My, what a cute little boy (or words to that effect) and PATS ME ON TOP OF THE HEAD!!!! While wincing, I remember looking back at my parents' table, and saw them wincing as bad as I was!
But still, we wanted to avoid a trip to the hospital at all costs.
But later that same night, we are actually DRIVING PAST THE HOSPITAL (the same one I am working at today, ironically). We are in the family van, and I am sitting in my mom's lap. We hit a bump in the road, and I klunk my head on the ceiling. The cut breaks open, and the blood comes running once again. So, we pull into the hospital.
I don't remember much of the experience in the hospital - except for when the doctor tried to "comfort me" by showing what they were going to be doing - he take a needle and pokes it through a pillow case, then pulls it back out. I remember screaming holy hell for about the next 10 minutes, and the next thing I know - they are done. I needed to get ONE stitch to hold the cut together. Amen.