Today, in the middle of cutting UPC stickers off of a cardboard box or two (there is $319 in mail-in rebates at stake; and yes, I first tried peeling the stickers off), I stabbed my thumb with a pair of nail scissors.
I don't do anything half-assed. When I say that I stabbed my thumb, I mean that I stabbed my thumb.
Copious amounts of blood immediately appeared, dripping down my hand and on my carpet.
I cursed, grabbed a kleenex and applied pressure.
I then waited, with my thumb above my heart, for my clotting cascade to kick in. And as I waited I wondered how long it would take for my fibroblasts to become nice and plump as they should in wound healing.
Sometimes I wish that I could stab my thumb with a pair of nail scissors and be done with it. Really, I don't need to be thinking about clotting cascades and fibroblasts.
I don't do anything half-assed. When I say that I stabbed my thumb, I mean that I stabbed my thumb.
Copious amounts of blood immediately appeared, dripping down my hand and on my carpet.
I cursed, grabbed a kleenex and applied pressure.
I then waited, with my thumb above my heart, for my clotting cascade to kick in. And as I waited I wondered how long it would take for my fibroblasts to become nice and plump as they should in wound healing.
Sometimes I wish that I could stab my thumb with a pair of nail scissors and be done with it. Really, I don't need to be thinking about clotting cascades and fibroblasts.
1 comment:
Never mind the medical knowledge, it is the advice your mother gave you all those years ago about knives, scissors and other sharp objects.
;-)
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