Windows hate me.
I may have lagged. I mean I did, but it's rude for others to point out my shortcomings to me when I already know them.
You may have noticed the weird tag on my tagboard. That is a lie, just because I lost a few grams of meat and blood to the floor does not mean that I can't come online. I mean I came online on Thursday night already =.=
To the ignorant ones: I have always had a bad affinity with windows. Last year, JKA pushed me against a window pane and I crashed vertically onto it and slid because of the additional weight behind me. My jaw was hit and my neck was grazed and I was alive because my life is meant for greater things and my death more glorious and sensational than on a window pane of classroom 4-7 in Catholic High School.
It was no exception on Thursday. It was an epic fail moment when I lost my balance and crashed onto the window panes of 32/09's classroom with my bare hands(duh, normal people don't wear gloves in school), and glass shards flew all around me.
So my hard right palm has like 2 marks on it currently, and an abrasion on my right hand. Just a slight grazing, it can move and I can smell the opus because I like smelling pus.
Then I had a chunk of meat taken out of my right forearm. Not exactly a lot of meat but quite a substantial amount, enough to substantiate a trip to the hospital. It bled copiously, as if my iron is free, and the friends around me were all in shock with this epic-fail-state I was in. They told me to cover the bleeding area with my left hand, which I did.
But to no avail, as my blood gushed out of my hand and my hand isn't water/blood-proof, so the blood still splattered out like free. Then they rushed me out of the classroom leaving me slightly bemused by the happenings because I don't yet know the severity of my injuries. It isn't a sign of manliness or indifference at that point, I just didn't know that my bleeding was so serious that it requires professional attention. When I was seated down with the teacher attending to me, I was wondering whether I can go straight home after they stopped the bleeding.
Which happened, because bandages stop bleeding pretty well. It doesn't seal lacerations though. Wait, is that even laceration? Ah never mind about such cheem medical terms. I was just sitting there thinking 'oh shit how about the windows? Do I have to pay for them?', while precious blood was lost to the floor.
It was then I realized that one of the falling glass shards struck my left thigh leaving a gaping crater near the knee. So I was like 'Um..I just found another site of bleeding =\' to the teachers, who attended to it. The bandage fell off from the knee =.= but still an attempt was made.
Fi then accompanied me on Mr. Arthur Lim's car to Raffles Medical, which was a scam because it wasn't open at all when we arrived, and I had to hobble with my more-or-less open wounds hidden only by some pieces of fabric wound around them. It kinda sucked having to hobble around and it kinda hurt too.
Then they opened for us, and the doctor attended to the wound near the knee first. I don't exactly know what he did because I was lying down and he wasn't exactly doing anything special except to clean the wound, disinfect it, clean the wound, change bandages, done. Try to remember this--about what they did.
Then they moved on to my hand. He took off the bandage and I saw the blood gushing out to fill the crater in my arm. It was kinda disturbing to have the dude talk to me about how I cut one of my arteries or main blood vessels, I can't remember which, and seeing the blood flowing out like free(my arm costs a lot of iron to maintain I guess). Then he mentioned something about the window nearly cutting my tendon. I was quite, um, amused by the prospect of saying 'Hi' to my right tendon for the first time in my life so I stared into the crater and flexed my hand, hoping to see some form of reaction, a sign that I actually have a tendon there.
Which happened. The layer of fats surrounding it moved and I saw something sinewy(or maybe that's tough fats). Either way it was quite gross to see cloudy suspensions in the crater that's part of it. It really was quite gross. I know I have tendons but I don't have to see them to believe that I have them, thank you very much.
So they bandaged it up, and informed me that I needed stitches and they can't do anything to help because they don't know if there are glass shards in my knee or not. So they wrote a referral letter I think and gave it to my teacher and charged me around $80. Try to remember this.
And recall what I said earlier. Bandages + alcohol = 80 bucks.
Connect the dots, don't get scammed.
So I was rushed(not exactly rushed) to TTSH A&E, got onto a wheelchair because my knee doesn't feel mobile with a crater, and...yea. I got pushed around. I felt like a pushover =\ but I can't move myself around because...
my right hand is immobile. So I can only push with my left hand, and if I did that I would be moving in circles. Which would get me nowhere so..yea. I got pushed by my mum who arrived and relieved Fi and Mr. Lim of their burden, ie me. Which isn't that bad a thing actually. Then blahblahblah they took off my bandages and checked and sent me for an x-ray and then sent me to get stitched up.
Everywhere I go, I get my bandages removed. OK except for the x-ray corner of course. It was again weird to see my bones. It happened before but it's always weird to see my bones when I've all the while been looking at boners(my own). So whenever they remove my bandages I'd tell my mum to 'don't look'. Try to remember this too.
So when I was finally pushed into the operating theatre(why theatre? The song of life the doctors perform?), I asked the doctor if I should look when he stitches me up. He told me 'I think you should heed the advice you gave your mother'. OK. Yea.
I was anaesthetized(how spell =.=) and the needle poking through hurt like hell. I was clinging onto the theatre bed hard and sweating like mad and scared like shit for fear of pain. I was shivering and they gave me a warm blanket. Which helped a lot. At least it stopped my shivers.
I could still feel the penetration of every layer of my skin as he stitched me up, and at some points it hurts even more because that area may not have been anaesthetized properly.
So...yea. Quite traumatic.
On the wheelchair, I acted like an F1 racer. If people looked at me they would realize why I'm wounded in the first place--doing retarded things.
And the people mistook me for an NS man. As in, if you're in NS and you end up in the hospital, you have your treatment for free. I botak, so they thought that I'm in NS. They told my mum 'don't need pay if your son is in NS, he is, right?', and being honest like I am, she told him no, my son is in J1.
Actually it could be because they wrote my name all over the place when they registered me into the A&E.
So...yea.
Don't think it's healthy to take pictures and upload them. It's really retarded how I had to get stitched up in the first place, really retarded and I'm not very proud of it.
I think I'd blog about Lantern Festival in Rivervale Primary School later or something. The computer hates me and I've just spent the last 10minutes starting at it with it staring back at me.
See. Windows. They hate me.
-- 9/27/2009 02:18:00 AM
