So last night Him decided he was going to tinker with the van. I mentioned in an earlier blog his new project is modifying the van. And I must admit, he has done a great job. Storage boxes and drawers, a step for reaching the aerial, new aerial bracket, fixing up the bbq bracket and splash guard and so on.
Last night he was working on the bike rack. I think. He has been fiddling around outside a lot so I am never quite sure that he is doing. All I know is I had just put the milk on to heat up for pasta, and lit the plate under the frying pan.
Next thing I hear my name called urgently. Geez, goes I, what does he want me to hold/check out/give opinion on now, and doesn't he realise I am busy? I find him in the laundry, running his thumb under the tap, blood gushing like a river down the drain.
Seems he was holding a piece of box section while hammering (something) and his thumb got in between the angle and hammer. Actually split the pad of his thumb almost down to the bone. Lovely mess.
Me, with my new first aid training, didn't even feel faint at all that blood (fingers sure do bleed a lot don't they?). Turned off the tap, got him an old rag to hold around it, and went in search of a bandage or something.
Nope, he didn't like that bandage. Just whack a band aid on it says he. No way! I settled for a sterile dressing, held in place with a band aid. He wouldn't even elevate it to reduce blood flow and swelling. Stubborn that boy, who has many years more first aid training than I. So, who do we call now? The doctor surgery closed at six, didn't need an ambulance, didn't feel like waiting at a hospital for 12 hours.
I phoned the doctor after hours number, and they suggested a place on Morphett Road, which lucky for us, was open until 10 pm and took walk ins.
We bundled into the car, Mr Brave insisted on driving. We found it a little before 7 pm, right there next to Bunnings, and there was quite a queue before us. After registering and taking a seat, I suggested Jr Her and I pop over to the shopping centre (which was conveniently open, being late night shopping) and grab some reading material. We knew we had at least an hour wait. $50 later I had something for everyone.
Back we go, nibbling on sugar coated peanuts, cause no one had eaten, and reading magazines. Some time after 8 pm the receptionist walked past, and made a comment about everyone requiring stitches. Him held up his thumb. Oh no, says she. Why didn't you say so? We could have gotten you to see the nurse, who had finished at 8, and you would have gotten a jump in the queue. Lesson learned for next time...
Anyway, about 9 pm he was finally called in. Turns out, the Dr wouldn't stitch it anyway cause it was on the pad of the thumb, and they would have torn out as soon as he bent his thumb. So he just cleaned it up, stuck on a couple of butterfly clips, and bandaged it back up. Mind you, Him said it was all puffy and exposed (gee, no wonder that...) and very deep. I had suggested it was almost to the bone when he said he didn't need to get it looked at. I think he was in denial at the time.
He was in there all of about 7 minutes, and it was after 9 pm so we stopped down the road at KFC, bought a massive bucket and toddled home. By the time we finished eating, washed up, gotten my bath, fought with Jr Her who was trying to find something to wear to school casual day today (instead of going to bed), and waited for Him to come back inside, it was 11.30.
He is a tough guy, a man's man. Breaks fingers and doesn't do anything about it. Can't decide if he is tough or stupid in that manner, but he didn't say a word. Said it only hurt when the Dr put Betadine on it. He did say, this morning, that it was throbbing a bit. That means it would probably have you or I reduced to tears. Tough old goat that one. Gotta love him...