t’will do; t’will serve

Well, you know, it had to happen. Was bound to happen. Sunday evening I managed to catch my handy-dandy exacto blade (new, it was. fresh from the box.) in a bit of flash on an anchor half, and it flipped right out of my hand, spun in a very tight arc, and smacked the base of a finger on its way to embedding itself, quivering, in the floor.

Being an old hand at injuring myself while working, I avoided bleeding all over the boat.

Nola, noticing that I was not actually spurting fountains, Took Charge. She gleefully dug out her Wilderness First Aid Kit, (Me: "Oi! I'm bleeding here!" Her: "You sure are. Goodie, goodie, goodie. Keep that under the tap, I'll be back in bit.") This kit of hers has been composed after much careful research and after doing about a million illos for Mis*Adventure: Rise to the Challenge by Anna Christensen, and after being partially paid in kit bits for them. It contains, among other things, a garrotte. It's billed as an emergency saw, but I know a garrotte when I see one.

Back to the book, which Nola took to the dining table to read. While sitting. In a relaxed sort of way. (Me: "I could use a bit of gauze." Her: "Less noise, please, I'm reading—oh, all right. Here. Now hold that tight and sit down over there.") This book is an absolute marvel, the sort of thing one wants to have should things go wrong in the middle of nowhere. It's about 4 x 5 inches and a bit over half an inch thick, printed on very strong, and very thin, sheets of Tyvek really tough paper. So it's indestructable not truly indestructable, but close enough.

The first thing the book tells one to do is Take Charge. Okay, I think we can check that off. Nola's rarely not in charge. Next comes Assess The Scene. Irritated blonde smoking moodily while holding wound closed. Intelligent & capable take-charge woman reading book. Freshly-woken cat demanding supper. All's well here.

Then comes Keep Patient Alive, and there's a great list of things one can try on to see how they go. Nola opted for pointing at me and saying, "Sit still. You're in my light," followed by, "Finish your cigarette, I want to look at that finger." I'm presuming this last falls under Prevent Aggravation or possibly Prevent Further Aggravation and Shock with a dash of Plan What to Do.

Ultimate inspiration came from the section on Gaping Cuts, and indeed, it contains a Nola-drawn diagram of exactly the technique she then used to apply the Steri-Strips. Regretfully, I might add, as she'd perked momentarily at the thought of using staples. (Me: "No." Her: "But, sweetie—" Me: "Get away from me with that thing!")

It's an excellent handbook; if you don't have a copy, you should.* The cut is healing nicely. There's been very little pain, no swelling, no infection of any kind.

* As you can see, it makes for enthralling reading.