It’s December 20. I’m sitting on my niece’s bed, listening to my sister read her a story before bed time. I look at the time (9:00 pm) and start thinking I should probably head home soon.
At 9:04 my mom calls me. The call went something like this:
Laura – “Hey”
Mom – “Hey. Umm. I cut my hand really bad and I think you need to come take me to the hospital.”
Laura – *long pause* “. . . Umm. . . Okay.” *Thinking the drive to my house, being 30 minutes, could be cut in half if we could both meet at the hospital* “Can you drive yourself to the hospital?”
Mom – “Uh, no.”
Heather – “Whats going on?”
Laura – “She cut her hand and needs to go to the hospital.”
Heather/Laura – *Both make that face like ‘ouch’ and ‘semi-freak out’*
Laura – “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can”
I sped to my house with full intention to get a cop to escort me if he somehow tried to pull me over. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
I ran into the house. The dogs greeted me as they always do, and I’m sure if they could speak they would tell me that mom was severely injured.
There it was. A broken ceramic knife sticking out of an over sized can of green beans. The culprit. And there was the 3/4 inch long cut on my mom’s hand. I will spare you the photo, but trust me, it was one of those cuts that sent that queasy feeling from your head to your toes. It definitely needed stitches.
Still in “mission mode,” I helped her wrap the cut up and sped to the hospital.
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The emergency room. Not as crazy as you would think it would be. There is actually a waiting room, and it was fairly calm.
They immediately bandaged my mom up with proper bandaging (our “tissue paper wrapped up in packing tape bandage-job” apparently wasn’t good enough). Took her blood pressure and all that jazz and we waited for about 45 minutes until she was called into a room for a doctor to look at the cut.
While we were sitting there, we discussed the Ted Dekker book I was reading and my mom’s life as an OR assistant in training. I was taking in the life of those who work in the ER and OR and what goes on at hospitals. I also thought of that time I played “nurse” when Sarah was sick at the studio (quite a story – only told in person). I enjoyed studying Anatomy and Physiology in high school. My own migraine issues and multiple friend’s issues with chronic pain have always interested me. At some point I thought to myself, “Working in a hospital would be pretty cool.” Medical work runs in my family, so it’s odd that I didn’t get into it in the first place. I’m the artsy one, along with my cousins of the same generation. I do video editing work. “But can’t I do both?” I thought to myself.
While in the room where the stitching preparation was happening, I had the opportunity to assist the nurse in setting up the table. She had come in with her gloves already on and had completely forgot that she needed to open the betadine and saline solution and pour them into the tray. She asked me to do it. 🙂 Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s really not THAT big of a deal, but I did assist.
Then I watched as the doctor shot my mom’s hand up with numbing solution and stitched her up. It’s somewhat similar to cross stitching, except your dealing with flesh, not fabric.
During the down time, I was texting my sister about what kind of hospital work I could get into without going through nursing school or medical school. With each new piece of the stitching process, I found myself wanting to get into some sort of medical field. Heather told me that getting EMT certified was the quickest way into the medical field. Perhaps that could work. I have to find some sort of work out in Salt Lake City other than video editing if I want to eat and live in an apartment.
So for now this is just a seed planted in my mind. Who knows what it will grow to be. Dr. Laura?