All's well that ends well, I was able to get my finger fixed up quite nicely that same afternoon after fifteen minutes of wondering if it was possible to bleed to death from a minor scrape. Using one bandage to protect my finger, in to work I went the next morning. This was when I decided I would forever hide any and all injuries that might befall me while I work at DHEC with all these helpful nurses.
The first nurse I ran into was Marie. Looking at the minor abrasion on my hand, she immediately tried to convince me to go to the doctor's office while on lunch. "You hurt that hand before, it obviously hasn't healed. You need to have someone look at this before you get an infection!" This was followed by a five minute run-down of every urgent care building within a five mile radius. She also consulted another co-worker who moonlights as a medical assistant at one such location. Thankfully, a client came around for her, so I was able to break away from her with a promise I would have a "professional" look at my finger if it didn't heal.
"What's going on?," was the question from Grace, another nurse. I was still trying to head to my office and set up for the day, so I did my best to give a quick explanation and brush it off. No such luck. Within five minutes I was sitting in her office, soaking my finger in a saltwater solution, smiling and nodding while listening to instructions to soak my hand like this three times a day, no less than five minutes. I would be guaranteed to have a healed finger within a week.
Walking back towards the lunch area to dispose of said solution, I ran into Melissa, who was curious as to what I was dumping into the sink. Again, I tried to limit the information I shared so as to expedite my trek back to my office. I was unsuccessful. Melissa had been showing a new co-worker around the office area, and as she took my hand and carefully examined the wound, Dave and I introduced ourselves to each other and had a polite conversation. At that point, Melissa was satisfied that my finger was healing properly and let me go. I literally started to run toward my office.
It was at that point that I saw Elizabeth. All you need to know is that Elizabeth has a million stories about everything and will happily share any and all of them with you. I tried the polite excuse of, "Oh, I think I have a client waiting." No luck. In the end, I was stretched out under my desk, trying to reassemble my computer (a long story for a different day.), listening to her and wondering how many people she knew who had mildly injured their middle fingers in the same manner that I had.
I thoroughly enjoy working with all of my co-workers, but during the forty-five minutes that all these things happened, I couldn't help but laugh and remind myself that anytime you work with medical professionals, you'll get a million medical opinions at every turn. I'm thinking that tomorrow morning I will NOT be sharing that I think I have half the symptoms of strep throat!
Well, I have officially used up ALL of the energy I accumulated during my five-hour siesta this afternoon. Time to head back to the futon for some more episodes of Castle. Also, before I go, I have a potpourri of thoughts to share:
1.) I only have to "work" three days this week, and one of those days I will be located next door to a Fazoli's restaurant. Cheap Italian food, here I come!
2.) Just over two weeks until I make it back to Ohio. I'm happy here in South Carolina, but I always forget how much I love being home in Ohio.
3.) We were discussing items needed to create a nice Thanksgiving basket for less fortunate families today in church. Apparently, mac and cheese and sweet tea are staples not to be forgotten in a good Southern Thanksgiving dinner.
Have a great evening everyone! The end.
