Warning: this post has injury photos. I don't think it's too gruesome, but read at your discretion. In the meantime, have a photo of a fish tank since the first photo in any given post ends up in my Facebook feed:
Yay Loveland Living Planet Aquarium!
Alright, we're down to people who won't faint at the sight of blood? (Or kind people who will read out loud to people who don't want to look at blood?) Stellar.
Long time readers may remember that the Summerfest is a local event with carnival rides, vintage cars, other activities--and reasonably priced vendor tables. Last year I set up a children's instrument craft as a way to get to talk to people about my business. Which was insane, crazy busy last year--and kind of disappointing when none of the people I spoke to who seemed interested ever followed through. That being said, Summerfest last year did lead indirectly to a couple of the clients I've had, so I decided it was worth another try.
I did decide to change up the crafts a little, though, for variety's sake. I found instructions for drums made of a tin can, a balloon, and some rubber bands-- cheap and relatively easy to make, perfect for the purpose. So for the last few weeks of May I started collecting all the tin cans I could get my hands on. I may or may not have cooked my family an unusually high number of soups and bean-based dishes in order to get as many cans as I could.
The trouble started when I was washing one of these cans out one evening-- and my finger caught a jagged edge on the inside of the can left behind by the can openers. And the point just bit right in.
I immediately went to the sink to rinse out the little cut, then went in search of a band-aid. But the thing is that my finger just kept bleeding. I was leaving a trail of blood all over the house (we had finished off the box of band-aids in one cabinet and it took me a minute to find some in a different one), and quickly bleeding through the kleenexes I held over the injury. Finally I got a band-aid on and was able to wrap my finger tightly enough to get the bleeding under control. And then I cleaned up all the blood.
My Mom got home somewhere around this time. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself; my finger kept throbbing and getting sharp, stabbing feelings, like there was still a little knife caught in the wound. Mom recommended I put on some neosporin then go to the Instacare in the morning. So I took the band-aid off, and immediately began to bleed everywhere again. Now Mom was a bit more concerned. So I wrapped my finger up again and we went to the ER.
At the ER, they kindly gave me some pads to bleed onto while I was waiting for someone to look at the injury. It was a small cut, really-- but very deep. After poking around (and having to give me two shots of the numbing agent), the doctor told me that I'd managed to damage the nerve in my fingertip-- and that I'd probably have a cold spot in my finger for a while. That could last a few months-- or for the rest of my life. (I don't have a cold spot, though, just a patch that's very tender and sensitive even now that I'm writing this over two months later). Anyway, I ended up spending midnight in the ER getting four stitches on my right middle finger.
If you've never gotten stitches before, it's a pretty strange experience. They numb you up so it doesn't hurt too much (except when they hit that damaged nerve and realize you need a whole second needle of numbing stuff-- not a great day to be afraid of needles), but you feel like a marionette having someone run strings through you like that. I couldn't handle watching the stitches, but I did think the end result looked pretty impressively Frankenstein's monster-esque.
They bandaged my finger up and gave me an aluminum "fingertip" to protect the stitches while they healed. Now, I had mentioned by now that I was a music therapist, and that this would be print a bit of a cramp on my guitar playing--but not nearly as bad as it would be if I'd cut a finger on my left hand, thank heavens. So when I got the aluminum fingertip, the ER doctor became the first of many, many people to jokingly suggest I use the fingertip as a guitar pick.
Let me be clear--it is completely the wrong shape and material for a guitar pick.
Here, instead, is a list of legitimate uses for aluminum fingertips:
-protecting your finger
-drum mallet
-making every hand gesture look like a rude one
-jabbing out the eye of a would be attacker
-excuse to get out of anything-- "Oh, I'd love to help you shave your cats, Ethel, but as you can see I'm still recovering from a severe injury, so..."
-an awkward but effective back scratcher
-sewing thimble-collecting surprising quantities of finger sweat
Anyway. After my injury, I couldn't do much with my right hand for a few days, and had to take plenty of pain medicine--funny how such a little injury can hurt so much! I ended up missing almost a week of work at the thrift store. And, since this was the week of the Summerfest, I got to drag my Dad and brother around to do all the heavy lifting, and spent the day shaking hands with people and then explain my injury to them.
On the other hand, it did make set up a little easier that I didn't go in to the thrift store that morning. But-- it is a bit of a challenge to stand in the hot sunlight and act cheerful when your finger feels like it's still being stabbed and is covered in enough bandages to make a small tourniquet.
Summerfest did end up being fun, though. I took a break to visit the petting zoo--which had. a. baby. zebra. Which I failed to get a photo of-- what can I say, I've been off my blogging game-- and the tin can drums ended up being a huge hit. We were a lot less busy then last year--they had us in a more out of the way location, which hurt our numbers, and this year we had less families and more unsupervised kids coming by. Even do, you I was able to talk to some people who seemed interested--nothing's come of it yet except some newsletter subscriptions, but at least it's *something*.
It's not even close to an even return--because let me tell you, the ER visit cost me about five times as much as everything I spent on Summerfest combined. Still, you can't say I'm not putting everything I've got into this business. Sweat, tears, and now blood--let's hope the list of bodily fluids ends there.
Also, I'm asking for one of those really nice can openers that don't leave sharp edges behind for Christmas.
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