Friday afternoon I left Chicago right after work to head out to
Kingston for a get
together with family. I was going to spend the night, so I had dropped a bag off
at my car that morning so that I could make a quick getaway right after work.
I got to my car and really wanted to brush my teeth, so I fished out my
toiletries bag and dug out my toothbrush and toothpaste. The toothpaste was
frozen--I couldn't squeeze any of it out. So I capped it back up and packed up
the bag. It was then that I noticed a patch of blood on the side of my right
index finger. I hadn't felt a thing; my fingers were numb from the minute or two
with my gloves off while I wrestled the toothpaste. When I reached into my bag,
my razor lopped off a large chunk of skin. The wound was shallow, but it was a
wide patch. The blood was a trickle, so I put the knuckle in my mouth and sucked
the blood away. Once my finger warmed up, however, the blood started to really
flow. It was challenging to keep the blood under control when I had to take the
finger out of my mouth to shift the manual transmission of my car. I dug around
looking for napkins or something to close up the wound. All I had was a clean
sock that I had packed for the next morning.
And that is how I came to show up at my Aunt & Uncle's house with a bloody
sock wrapped around my finger, asking if they had any bandages I could borrow.
Three days later, the wound is still oozing; I wonder if it will scab up, and if
it will leave a scar.