(Almost) Bleeding Out

No ... not an actual picture of my pooling blood

 
You know how water forms that little tension curve at its surface?  That's because their like molecules want to stick to each other until they're forced apart by gravity or some other means.

Well, the same goes for blood.  Only larger.

But I'm getting ahead of myself ...

I was using a scraping knife to get a label peeled off a book.  I ended up slipping and gouging my finger just below the knuckle of my left index finger, gouging it deeply enough that blood started flowing from it and pooling on the counter where I was working.  And man, did it ever flow.  I don't think I've ever cut myself so deeply with a scraper.   I didn't have anything to staunch the bleeding so I just stood there looking at it, thinking for a minute how I was going to get out of this predicament.  Paper towels were underneath the sink behind me which was a good 10 feet away from where I was standing so I couldn't reach them without dripping blood all over the place and there was nothing but dish towels in one of the drawers just below me.  I didn't want to bloody up any of them so I decided to stand there and think a minute.

Now, earlier, I had given a printer cartridge to Missy for the out-of-ink printer we had in another room.  She mentioned she didn't know how to install the cartridge and I playfully told her to figure it out.  After a minute or two I went to see what she was up to and realized she had locked the door into the room where the printer was.  I told her to open the door so I could install the cartridge but she resisted my help.  "Nope ... you told me to figure it out and that's what I'm gonna do" she said matter of factly.  I told her not to be stubborn and just open the door but she refused.  I pointed at the printer through the window in the door and explained she needed to flip open the printer because that's where the cartridge was, buried in its innards but she just ignored me.  So I just walked away.

And, on my return into the kitchen, was when I started fooling with the book, trying to get the label off.

So standing there dripping blood on the counter I began pounding against the granite countertop in an effort to try and attract her attention while yelling her name.  I graduated to slapping the wall thinking the sound of thudding would be even more of an earful but she was obviously ignoring me.  I knew she could hear me pounding away and yelling, at least distantly, but she was calling my bluff, ignoring my effort to help her install that printer cartridge.  Little did she know I was injured and bleeding.

Meanwhile, the blood pooling in front of me was growing ever larger with a pretty hefty meniscus forming at its surface.  (I wish I'd had my phone handy so I could have snapped a photo of that pooling blood ... but that would have been rather garish.)  At some point if I didn't do something about it it would threaten to drip over the edge of the counter.

A good 30 seconds of pounding and yelling yielded nothing from Missy.  Meanwhile, the pool of blood beneath my finger was growing exponentially.  I didn't think there was any chance of myself bleeding out but, still, the amount of blood coming out my finger was somewhat alarming.  That's when I realized I had rubber gloves in one of the drawers right where I was standing, so I opened a drawer with my free hand, pulled out a glove and jammed my bleeding hand into one so I wouldn't mess up any other surface other than the countertop.  Finally, I headed into the bathroom.  There, I started a water flush to get all the blood off my hand and begin cleaning it.  I applied hydrogen peroxide and just waited for the bleeding to slow down.  But the cut was pretty damned deep and it didn't seem as if it was going to stop anytime soon.

I washed it as best I could to clean it and applied additional hydrogen peroxide.  Finally Missy came in, curious what I was doing, and I told her I needed a little help, to please get me the Band Aids.  I asked her if she'd seen the pool of blood on the counter when she passed by on our way to the restroom.  She had not.  She mentioned she'd heard me pounding and yelling her name but she thought I was just trying to gain her attention to come out of the room.  I did but, instead, it was under the pretext I was injured and in need of assistance, not to coax her into letting me fix the printer.

Obviously, not the best time to get caught in the middle of a (possibly) life-threatening injury.

Which, really, it wasn't ... but it made for a bit more drama ... right?

 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

Update: Then, there's this accurate little drawing I put together that went with Week #7's #inktober52 prompt and appropriate here ...