EPTtl;dr for pt.1
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If you are too lazy to read it, or your time is 'too important' to invest into reading my first blog(ask yourself why your bothering to read this one then)I guess the tl;dr would be...I got my wrist cut badly by a hockey skate during a game
When we left the action I was being whisked along to the hospital in an ambulance. It was my first time being in an ambulance and I just assumed it would be soft and comfortable. They have to transport old decrepit people so it couldnt be a hard ride...right? Well, no. It was quite hard and very bouncy, especially because the driver was driving like a maniac and seemed to be aiming for any potholes he saw. I can confidently say that it was most unpleasure 30min journey I have ever taken(Forest to Sarnia if anyone is interested). The back of the ambulance was also kinda chilly and when they opened the back doors to wheel me out of it and into the hospital a nice gust of winter air rolled over me and chilled me to the bone. My body was fairly wet from the exertion of playing hockey and sweating, and when that winter breeze hit me I started to shiver uncontrollably. So they wheeled through some kind of emergency entance and down long plain hallways with closed doors and bright lights. The pain in my wrist was growing immensely and I had to close my eyes and kinda retreat within myself to try and combat the pain. Eventually we made it to a room with a bed, sink, and other stuff you would expect to find(medical supplies and such). I was still on the stretcher but I had to get off it and onto the hospital bed, which normally would have been no problem but, I was still shivering slightly, all my limbs were weak and numb, I had constant tunnel vision and I was still wearing my hockey pants and shoulder pads, quite cumbersome... After a bit of struggling I managed to wiggle myself onto the hospital bed and its clean white sheets. An armrest appeared out of no where for me to lay my arm on and keep it above my head, fairly uncomfortable but it really wasnt a huge issue at the time. Luckily, because it was the first game of playoffs, my mom had decided to come along, and got to the hospital maybe five or ten minutes after I had gotten into bed. It was really a miracle because she usually doesnt come to the games, but the one that I get badly hurt, she's there for support...and to drive home.
In short order the ER doctor came along, pulled out the wad of guass that the paramedics had shoved into the wound, and started poking and prodding, that hurt significantly. He then proceeded to squeeze each of my fingers in turn and ask 'can you feel that?'. I thought it was kinda silly to test that, but it wasnt. When he squeezed my pinky finger...I felt nothing, that got me kinda worried. He then pulled a pin out of his pocket and jabbed the side of my ring finger, I expected to twitch in pain and then ask him wtf he was doing. But I watched in increasing horror as he continued to poke my pinky with the pin, and proceed down my hand a little ways, I felt none of it. He kept a straight face as I searched his expression for some sign as to how bad it was, what did that mean? He gave away nothing.
I guess he was finished with my fingers because he put away his pin started to fiddle around with the gash on my forearm. He got his understudy to pull some kind of contraption out from somewhere behind me and breifly showed him how to use it. He told me what it was and what he was going to do with it, but I dont remember the wording even slightly. I remember the idea he was trying to convey though; the machine would blow...something(air, water or some other solution, I have no idea) into the wound and clear out the blood so the doc could see more cleary the inner workings(or 'not workings') of my arm...lovely. I then experienced more pain than I had ever felt in my life. It's really indescribable but it felt something like sticking your arm into a blazing fire, while splitters of wood are being shot deep into your flesh repeatedly, with the occassional sweeping torture of deathly cold running through your arm. Then it would stop for a second and all I could feel was the strange sensation of the liquid being sprayed directly on the muscle deep inside the wound. Then the agony would come back, and, I dont know if it was actually worse, but it certainly felt worse as I clentched my teeth and writhed on the bed. Then it was over...Wonderfully over, and the doctor was leaving the room, and my mom was standing in the corner, her hands over mouth and tears in her eyes.
I smiled at her, to show her I was fine and in releif at the end of that trauma. I think she thought I was going a little crazy, and maybe I was, but I wasnt in pain, and I could smile about that all day. The doc came back a couple minutes later and said some stuff, I wasnt really listening. His understudy came around the bed, he was a real nice guy, and said he was going to give me some morphine. Oh, well thats nice, but why couldnt you have done that ten minutes ago, before that witch doctor played guitar with my tendons. I got the shot and then he set up an IV that would pump some anti inflamatory and infection fighting fluid into my system, good stuff right? The doc said he would be back in a little bit, other patients to tend to I guess, and as he left he said to give me another shot of morphine, maybe he wasnt a witch doctor after all. I'm a pretty big guy so it wasnt like it was going to be too much morphine, although I had lost alot of blood.
The morphine kicked in, and if you've never had morphine, your not missing out. It was like a wave, slowly crashing through my body. It started in my chest and slowly rolled out to my limbs, it was like it was stimulating every nerve it passed, not in a particularily nice way...it was weird ok? After that was over it felt like the bed I was on was suddenly very comfy and I could lay there forever. But I couldnt, my heart was racing a thousand miles and hour, a huge wad of guass had been, again, stuffed into my wrist. I just wanted to get up, I wanted to leave, to play hockey, to run, to walk, but mostly, I just wanted to go home. How could this happen to me...
---Again, that got too long... It would appear that I'm going to have to finish it tomorrow(part 3!!). To satisfy some curiousity, here is a pic of my arm as it looks right now:
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![[image loading]](http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/9897/1511091539.jpg)
No, Im not really that pale.. I blame the lighting. Uhmm, the horizontal cut near the top is the actual cut from the skate. Tomorrow there'll be an uglier pic, plus blood!!
-If your really studious you can look up ulnar nerve damage. But thats all Im going to say now.
Part3:http://www.teamliquid.net/blogs/viewblog.php?topic_id=106388
