So i took a trip down to school and had quite the holiday weekend. Here's a little account i've written about friday night. It ends a bit abruptly cause i got tired of writing.
Its really funny how many people I see when I go down to school for a visit. We had just finished playing asshole and people were wandering outside to listen to the music and see who else was on the greens. I had, apparently, taken my shoes off sometime during the course of the game. I went outside and took one step off the sidewalk into the grass. As my foot came down a sharp pain shot through my heel and I immediately raised my foot again. (No doubt with a look of surprise and apprehension on my face) It was as if there had been a razor blade propped up in the grass and I had just walked over and pressed my heel into it. I was a little peeved because now it would hurt while I walked. I hopped back inside and sat at the foot of the stairs to take a look at it. I could feel that the wound was in the very center of my heel and it wasn't an easy spot too look at. I sat and used my hand to press lightly on the area, hoping that would take away the sting. As I withdrew my hands from either side both were coated with blood. I knew this could be a problem and I began to ponder my options. First I could hop outside and try to find someone who could help me, which might have been quite a lot of work. I decided to go with option two: lay on the steps and wait for someone to walk into the house.
It didn't take long. I heard the door open and I called out "Do you live here?" Whoever it was said "Oh god, hold on." And she promptly produced Jess (who's house I was laying in). I'm fairly certain that this was much more efficient than trying to find her myself would have proved. Jess suggested that we adjourn to the bathroom and I rose keeping my foot in the air to try and keep it from dripping too much. I then climbed the stairs doing my best not to get blood on the wall or hand rail on the way. I failed. Its not very easy to climb stairs with one foot and no hands while you're drunk and bleeding. I had sobered up quickly but was becoming less coherent as I bled. We made it to the shower without too much more trouble and the water began to wash away the red. I don't know the dialogue verbatim during this part so I'm going to have to make educated guesses about how it happened. I also visually remember it in third person since most of the time I was looking at the wall trying to gauge how black it was. Jess got some hydrogen peroxide and said it might hurt a bit. I replied "just do it I can't feel anything." It was true; the cut hadn't hurt at all since I first saw my hands at the bottom of the stairs. So we spent a few minutes pouring the sterilizer on the cut and washing the result away. The shower floor which had been a red whirlpool now converted into a bubbly
mess. The H2O2 had reacted and was obviously doing its job. I had never seen bloody bubbles 6 inches deep before. My face was cold and I began to concentrate more on my vision, trying to gauge how much longer I could stand. I didn't want to fall, but I also didn't want to be a wuss and ask to sit down before I needed to. I think I guessed about right. "Oh god, you're pale" "Yeah, I don't think I can stand any more" "Ok put your head on the rug there" So I knelt down and put my head on the ground with my feet still in the frothing shower. It felt wonderful. I could feel the blood rushing to my head as a wave to the breakwater, splashing and saturating the capillaries. "Jeremy you're still bleeding a lot" "Ok but I feel much better now" "Oh god, should I call you an ambulance?" "No, just call public safety, not an ambulance" In retrospect this was the stupidest idea ever and Jess must have decided that since public safety would have taken one look at me and just called someone else. They don't do injuries. "We don't have any bandages so I'm going to put a lot of Band-Aids on it, ok?" "That's great" I think most of the time in between these statements I was apologizing about all the blood and thanking anyone.
So I was taped up and Jess convinced me to hop to an extra bed. I was still worried about bleeding on things and even more so when Jess told me to put my foot on a pillow. She finally made me believe it was an old pillow and ok to elevate my foot with. "I'm a good clotter" "Ok" They must have thought I was delirious. "No, really I'll work on it" In all honesty I have always been a good clotter and was very proud of how quickly I could close a wound. So I spent the night with attentive nurses bringing me saltines and water and making sure that I was doing alright. I'm still not sure if I should have gotten stitches but the cut had mostly stopped bleeding by morning (though it had gotten through one of the four Band-Aids during the course of the night.) So now I'm hobbling around doing my best not to disturb it as it heals. All I can say is thank goodness for responsible and caring friends.