Scene of the Crime

Yesterday was not ordinary.  As I was starting a session on the rollers, I came off the side, tried to arrest my fall with my right foot, but the pace of the fall was sufficient to carry me over still further at which point I finally stopped the nonsense with my hand.

Unfortunately, my hand contacted this latch.  Could it be older, dirtier or more toxic?  

Although it doesn’t have sharp edges, it cut deeply into the palm of my hand.  Cuts don’t scare me.  I usually grab my camera first and then the first aid second.  This time, as I looked into the wound, I saw yellow fat and purple muscle.  No time for the camera.  I wrapped a towel around the wound and applied pressure, put on long pants, grabbed my wallet and keys and placed myself on my neighbor’s doorstep.  He was kind enough to drive me to urgent care and even gave me permission to bleed on his car (the lease was up in a week).  I didn’t bleed anywhere but into the towel (not much there either).

An hour forty five and a cab ride later, I was back home sporting this.  

The bandages cover a 5 cm wound closed by eight stitches.  No damage to electricals or mechanicals (hand works as well as before the injury).  It doesn’t hurt much and the prediction is the stitches will be removed in 10 days.  All in all a pretty soft landing.  Not sure how I managed to avoid stitches on my person over forty some years.  I am not sure how I earned them this time.  I generally face some difficulty during each session on the rollers.  Before yesterday, though, I have always caught myself before inserting hardware into my flesh.  Such is life!

p.s.  I took the pictures after I got home.  I very much regret not being able to photograph the wound before it was closed.  Very horror show it was.

It snowed for the first time yesterday.  Nothing to shovel (thank goodness).  Perfect weather for a codeine nap.  Unfortunately, the codeine didn’t make me sleepy at all.  Yesterday afternoon, between work calls, I watched two documentaries.  Both are highly recommended.  The first, Kings of Pastry, follows contestants through the grueling three day trial that is the Meilleur Ouvrier de France (MOF).  Those that survive are bestowed the highest honor for a pastry chef.  Disney didn’t make the documentary so happy endings are not guaranteed.  The second, Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soapbox, shared with me the story of the legendary Dr. Bronner, his philosophy, and the work his kids are undertaking to continue their father’s important work.  Soap?  Really only a vehicle to get the 3,000 word manifesto/label into the hands of everyone.  Punchline is we need to come together, work hard and share the fruits of our labors.  It’s a love story, then, and a very touching one at that but again, this is no Disney flick.  Like real life, some strange comes with the good.  Like looking into a deep cut and seeing things you hoped you’d never see.  Once you face it, though, it isn’t as scary as you’d think.  Maybe I need to read more of that label.

Be well!

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8 responses to “Scene of the Crime

  1. Randal! Welcome to the auspicious “low/no speed vaguely bicycle related stitched gash” club. We’re waiving our usual membership fees, in recognition of this most excellent blog post. It is our earnest hope that your (insured) readers will come to appreciate the joy that a really boss scar can bring, at least when it arrives with no immediate or long term ill-effects… Heal well my friend.

  2. Oh no! Hope you’re feeling better.

    Both those documentaries have been in my Netflix queue, thanks for the reminder to watch ’em!

    • Thanks friend. Feeling fine (as long as I don’t look at the wound).

      Lacey and I made a great dinner. Seitan cutlets topped with a white wine, roasted fennel and garlic reduction (and ravioli from the freezer and tomato sauce from a jar). It was spooky good. Made me think of all I have learned from reading what you share.

      Thanks again Be well!

  3. Ouch!
    Considering how gruesome the recent ‘healing’ photo looks, it must have been nasty.
    My only thought on ‘why now, if not before now?’ is that it seems to me I’m getting more brittle or easier to tear, slower to heal than I did even 5 years ago, like a switch was pulled or something. And I only finished highschool in ’92…
    Best wishes for continued healing!

    • Thanks for writing and the nice wishes. When it happened, the first look at it filled me with disbelief. The latch is so blunt and the gouge so deep, I wondered just what you are wondering–is my skin really that soft? I am neither a laborer nor young, so maybe it is. Increased caution is in order!

      Be well.

  4. I wonder… have you done anything to the latch in an effort to avoid repeat performances?

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