“Say, you don’t look too good. The sight of blood bother you?”
“Only my own.”
-a brief exchange in John Wayne’s Big Jake.
I like that response, because I can usually stomach anyone else’s injuries, to an extent, while triaging my own injuries takes a good deal more mental fortitude. The fractured bone pushing against the inside of Liz’s ankle, however, was disconcerting. Fortunately I’ve had a lot of trauma training from ER nurses back in my Boy Scouts days, so a conditioned response kicked in and I was able to stabilize her skeletal structure for the trek to the hospital. Say what you will about the Boy Scouts (and I certainly have a number of my own opinions, especially the Texan troop I grew up with), but they did take measures to prepare us in advance of wilderness camping trips. I can still point out where all the major pinch points are on extremities which, given the right amount of pressure, will close an artery by squeezing it against bone. There were a number of visceral visual aids given with the addition of stage blood and some acting. Consequently, I can pride myself with having prevented a tissue rupture, which the ER doctor was very pleased didn’t happen. Husband win!
I won’t post any of the injury pics as that seems a bit ghoulish, so this is more for posterity’s sake. Here she is awaiting admittance:
Of course she didn’t look in such good humor once the adrenaline wore off, but I’ll keep those pics private for some personal memories. And the x-rays.
5 hours in the ER and a transfer to the main hospital campus and surgery and 2 days recovery. For a rotational multi-fracture. Ouchy.
What was she doing to receive such an injury? Oh just walking out to retrieve firewood in the cold and snow, AHA (against husband advice). Fortunately I went to go look for her before she went hypothermic. Sigh. The adventures we have.
–Simon