Well, that was exciting! I went out for a last cup of chocolate and sit with the cat before setting off for the BushMoot
I stupidly sat down on my 3-legged carving stool
Izzy jumped up beside me
carving stool tipped
I fell
my right leg banged into one of the legs of the carving stool.
Instant excruciating pain! Air blue as I swore because I knew Id made a bloody great hole in my leg and I might well not be able to go to the BushMoot arrrggghhhh !!!
I peeled the leg of my trousers up, hoping against hope for a big bruise. No not a chance! It looked like a good slab of red beef, oozing juicily. Well that was good, no arteries cut, I wasnt about to bleed out. Hobbled indoors and up to the bathroom, sloshed half a bottle of TCP into the wound, stung like hell but ***, it was killing germs. Bleeding slowed right down too. Hobbled into bedroom and ferreted in med-drawer for bandages and stuff. Found some gauze and bandage and tubi-thingy, wound up the wound carefully, putting flap of skin back then grabbed the phone and called 999.
The man on the other end was very good except he didnt seem to grasp (even after 3 tellings) that the lump of wood was not still in my leg.
Hubby arrives home happily unloads car of shopping despite me screaming Help! at the top of my voice! After about 25 yells he calls back for me to die quietly doh! Sigh! Anyway he did get himself up the stairs to where I was lying on the bed with the injured leg raised. I explained what had happened he assured me, forcefully, he was NOT panicking (doh!) and then the ambulance arrived.
My bedroom was now full of three nice-looking men, all being most helpful and kind nice! They were very good, blood-pressure, diabetes test, oxygen levels, all the right stuff, and Geoff was showing himself to be a wizard. He and they explained that Geoff was very likely able to mend me, here at home so I wouldnt have to go to hospital, and was certainly going to have a go. He was super professional, looking at the stool that caused the injury, checking it for splinters and dirt, then he set to on the wound. Oh, before that, he supplied me with laughing gas and was I glad he did examining the wound was going to hurt, let alone cleaning it out and stitching me up! He had a look and decided he could do it so began by giving me a local anaesthetic this hurts! Horribly! The laughing-gas took a lot of the edge off. Me now in a state in which he could work on the wound he got going, cleaning, stitching, dressing it all took a long time, like a couple of hours, so we were chatting in between my occasional screams *rolls eyes*. Hed had a fascinating life, was a trained nurse and had worked all round the world Africa, Arab states, Far East. You could tell from his assurance and wonderful manner as well as the way he explained what he was doing how very, very well trained he was. Thank the gods for people like that.
Anyway, it was all over at last, he gave me antibiotics again after carefully checking what I could take with all the other meds I have and told me to get the wound looked at in 48 hours. He also made sure I knew things to look for if the wound should be going sour but he was very confident that it would be fine as it was neat, clean and thered been no tissue loss. He also complimented me for disinfecting it immediately, getting some pressure bandage on and keeping the leg raised.
And he said I could drive tomorrow wheee! so I can still go to the BushMoot. Hopefully therell be a nice gang of folks to help me unload and set up as although driving is ok I must stay off the leg as much as possible for a bit.
Alls well that ends well *smile* ... and 110/10 to the ambulance service
Instant excruciating pain! Air blue as I swore because I knew Id made a bloody great hole in my leg and I might well not be able to go to the BushMoot arrrggghhhh !!!
I peeled the leg of my trousers up, hoping against hope for a big bruise. No not a chance! It looked like a good slab of red beef, oozing juicily. Well that was good, no arteries cut, I wasnt about to bleed out. Hobbled indoors and up to the bathroom, sloshed half a bottle of TCP into the wound, stung like hell but ***, it was killing germs. Bleeding slowed right down too. Hobbled into bedroom and ferreted in med-drawer for bandages and stuff. Found some gauze and bandage and tubi-thingy, wound up the wound carefully, putting flap of skin back then grabbed the phone and called 999.
The man on the other end was very good except he didnt seem to grasp (even after 3 tellings) that the lump of wood was not still in my leg.
Hubby arrives home happily unloads car of shopping despite me screaming Help! at the top of my voice! After about 25 yells he calls back for me to die quietly doh! Sigh! Anyway he did get himself up the stairs to where I was lying on the bed with the injured leg raised. I explained what had happened he assured me, forcefully, he was NOT panicking (doh!) and then the ambulance arrived.
My bedroom was now full of three nice-looking men, all being most helpful and kind nice! They were very good, blood-pressure, diabetes test, oxygen levels, all the right stuff, and Geoff was showing himself to be a wizard. He and they explained that Geoff was very likely able to mend me, here at home so I wouldnt have to go to hospital, and was certainly going to have a go. He was super professional, looking at the stool that caused the injury, checking it for splinters and dirt, then he set to on the wound. Oh, before that, he supplied me with laughing gas and was I glad he did examining the wound was going to hurt, let alone cleaning it out and stitching me up! He had a look and decided he could do it so began by giving me a local anaesthetic this hurts! Horribly! The laughing-gas took a lot of the edge off. Me now in a state in which he could work on the wound he got going, cleaning, stitching, dressing it all took a long time, like a couple of hours, so we were chatting in between my occasional screams *rolls eyes*. Hed had a fascinating life, was a trained nurse and had worked all round the world Africa, Arab states, Far East. You could tell from his assurance and wonderful manner as well as the way he explained what he was doing how very, very well trained he was. Thank the gods for people like that.
Anyway, it was all over at last, he gave me antibiotics again after carefully checking what I could take with all the other meds I have and told me to get the wound looked at in 48 hours. He also made sure I knew things to look for if the wound should be going sour but he was very confident that it would be fine as it was neat, clean and thered been no tissue loss. He also complimented me for disinfecting it immediately, getting some pressure bandage on and keeping the leg raised.
And he said I could drive tomorrow wheee! so I can still go to the BushMoot. Hopefully therell be a nice gang of folks to help me unload and set up as although driving is ok I must stay off the leg as much as possible for a bit.
Alls well that ends well *smile* ... and 110/10 to the ambulance service
. I hope to be there circa 2-3 I think, will be driving slowly and carefully! Would you find me a nice quiet, out of the way spot to hang? Where I can run away from noise and nurse my leg 
Not too near the Naughty Corner then??
