In Stitches

Quite literally, as it turns out. A little after noon today, just after I finished the day’s writing, a sword fell on me.

Now, before you worry too much (or hurt yourself laughing), I have to explain. First, the sword was one of mine, one of a pair that is usually securely fastened to a wall plaque. Second, I had a little help, as one of the cats (Trouble — I’m perfectly willing to name names) ran under my feet trying to beat the other cats to the kitchen, and tripped me up. So I stumbled, knocked the swords off their holder (no, I hadn’t refastened them properly since the last time I’d had them down), and one of them sliced a 3-inch cut along my right triceps. The other one hit the back of my forearm, but just left a little hole and a big bruise.

It really didn’t hurt all that much — the blade was very sharp — but I could see that I was bleeding, and went on downstairs to look in the mirror. (You try looking at your triceps without a mirror!) It was pretty obvious that it was going to need stitches, so I called my doctor, and was told to proceed to the emergency room.

So I did as I was told, drove myself over to the emergency room (I drive an automatic), and presented myself to the triage nurse. Who, to her credit, did not even crack a smile when I told her what happened.

And then the fun began. I knew one of the duty nurses from when she treated Lisa at Hematology/Oncology, so she wasn’t entirely surprised that something this weird had happened to me. The other nurse just kept shaking her head and saying, “now, where was this sword? And it fell on you?” The nurse practitioner who stitched me up wanted to know why I had a sword in the first place, and exactly how it had happened (to be fair, I think she was making sure I hadn’t been in some weird fight) — but then I explained I was a writer and a collector, and it turned out she was a Trek fan, and so we had a nice chat while she put in the stitches. All seven of them.

Actually, the Novocain worked just fine, and I’m only just starting to get a little sore. (Which I will treat with ibuprofen and probably a glass of bourbon once I’m done with this post.) But I’m still left with seven stitches in my arm.

And two nice new Pirates of the Caribbean stickers — Jack Sparrow and Will, both brandishing swords — for having the weirdest story of the day.