Bleeding Out

A couple of days ago Linda cut her thumb while washing a kitchen knife. Having lived through more than my fair share of injuries; my tendency leans to the un-amazed and under whelmed when it comes to this sort of thing, which I pointed out. “Oh, yeah, that looks like it hurts. It doesn’t look that bad, though.” And then I foolishly added, “I’ve seen much worse.” It’s true I have seen worse but saying it might not have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Linda has an incredible memory and a knack for tactical recall of said memories. I worry this will go down in the banks alongside the time I suggested, “If you don’t puke, or at least feel like you’re gonna puke, I’m sure you didn’t break your wrist.” This after a biking accident in which she did, in fact, break her wrist.

Half a second later Linda passed out.

Yesterday she asked me to swing by Target on my way home from work and pick up some band-aids. Wanting to make up for past mistakes I happily agreed. She’s been using the kind typically referred to as a “butterfly bandage” and is often used in place of stitches. They’re more secure and saved us a trip to the doctor for real stitches, which in my opinion is always better.

After spending a good ten minutes in the bandages aisle and coming up empty I went for help. The girl I found was young and bubbling with enthusiasm. She had dark hair pulled back into a pair of pigtails and wore a red calf length jacket reserved for employees assigned to the pharmacy department. I explained my interest in butterfly bandages and she led me to the same bandage aisle I’d already visited. “I know exactly what you’re looking for and we have them,” she said. “You’re talking about those kind people put on elbows and knuckles, right?”

Following a detailed description using words like “small” and “not for elbows and knuckles” I could see my happy little helper was still not getting it so I added, “The bandages I’m looking for are typically used in place of stitches,” and yet, still nothing. She suggested I try a nearby pharmacy and began giving me directions at which point I interrupted.

“How far away did you say this place is? Because I have someone at home who is bleeding out. I’m not sure I have 5 minutes.”

“Uh, well I think there’s a Rite-Aid a little closer but I’m not sure.”

Just for theatrics I turned and sprinted toward the door.