Personal Medic

Okay, folks, sing with me now... how much is that medic in the window, Whoop whoop...

Or not, that's cool too.

Since I became an EMT, my family has relied on me more often than before, for cuts, scrapes, random bruises and strange illnesses. Apparently I am also part doctor. (Don't worry, I am just as frightened at the thought of that as you!) Last night was no exception.

As I was returning from a run, my cell phone rang. Seeing it was my sister, I answered thinking she was going to make plans for watching AI. (Shut up! You know you watch it too!) Boy howdy was I wrong. I was informed that my nephew, at the ripe old age of three, had slammed his finger in the door and it looked pretty bad.

Now, you need to understand that my sister is not one for blood and gore. Sure, she can birth three babies, but the sight of blood or little flaps of detatched skin turns her into the worlds biggest fainting barf bag ever. Fortunately, my mother, my dear mother, who can handle basically anything with a calm and collected demeanor (except her daughter getting an epidural) was present to take care of the little guy. I grabbed Will (who now can share the duty of family triage) and we headed over. There was little Davey all curled up in a ball on Grammy's lap, his right hand being devoured by a dishtowel that was releasing the melting ice cubes in a slow steady drip down Grammy's nice, white shirt. Of course this was also mixed with some sand and blood.

When he saw me, he instantly knew why I was there and well, got a little nervous. Curbing my humor, I decided I probably shouldn't tell him we could always just cut it off... instead he was handed a popcicle and I started my investigation. As it turns out, he split his finger from just the outside of his nail bed, diagonally down to the other side of his finger. Basically, the top of his finger was now just a little flap of skin, sand and fingernail. *Shudder* It looked like it hurt, but he was being a trooper. I suggested since it was so deep that they go to urgent care and get an x-ray to make sure the rest of his finger was all well and good.

As it turns out, no broken bones, no stitches needed as it was so far cut that they just figured it would fall off and he would start the process of growing a new nail and skin back. So, tonight I start my mission to find some Transformer bandaids as I promised him. I certainly hope they make them, or Cars bandaids because the poor kid just needs some awesome bandaids. You know they make owies feel better just by being so freaking cool.

Kind of like when the kid from the circus (that was stationed at my parent's house) took a billy goat horn to the face... but that is another post for another day.