Open hand surgery
On Friday, July 1, the day of the new moon, partial solar eclipse and other assorted influences described here by Rick Levine and Jeff Jawer, I was sitting at the vet's waiting for my dog, Lily Bear, to be brought out after a night's stay at the kennel. A woman sitting about four feet down the bench received her dachshund, Annie, before Lily Bear arrived. A few moments later, Annie got off her owner's lap and crossed the bench to where I was sitting. Her tail was up and wagging, so I began to raise my hand from the bench to offer the back of it for a sniff. Very abruptly, Annie bit me.
Annie's owner grabbed her and said, "I'm so sorry! I should have told you she can be nippy!" She hurried off to pay her bill and was gone.
The bite was on the middle finger of my right hand. On the left side of my finger the skin wasn't broken, but on the right there was a deep puncture wound. The vet cleaned it up and put a band-aid on it, muttering something about how it might have hit a vein and how it might hurt like hell. "But it should be okay."
Lily Bear was brought out and, as I paid for her stay, the receptionist mentioned that she'd been bitten many times and it never came to anything.
But two hours into my shift at the chocolate shop, which began about an hour later, I was in such severe pain that I closed the shop and called the local urgent care center, which was, unfortunately, closed. So I figured I would ice the wound and go in the morning.
Events moved quickly the next day. The urgent care center sent me right to the ER. An infection had already followed the tendon in my finger into the palm of my hand. At the hospital, I was attached to a machine that began pumping antibiotics into a vein in my arm, an orthopedic surgeon showed up, and x-rays, an EKG, and volumes of blood were taken. Since I had eaten breakfast, surgery couldn't be scheduled until 4 that afternoon. It was my first surgery, and, for the first time in my life, I was given general anesthesia.
The surgeon made two incisions, one along the inside of the long finger next to the puncture, and one across the palm. The tendons were debrided and a drain placed in my palm. The surgery took about an hour, they tell me.
I woke up a while later and was wheeled into the hospital room where I would stay for the next four days.
The story isn't over yet, though I've been home another four days now, but what strikes me about the sequence of events is how strongly aligned they are with current astrology. How much more aligned can they be than this?
I'm not ready to speculate on the meaning of such a blatant manifestation of the current astrological geometry, but as Levine and Jawer point out, we're certainly not in Kansas anymore.
Annie's owner grabbed her and said, "I'm so sorry! I should have told you she can be nippy!" She hurried off to pay her bill and was gone.
The bite was on the middle finger of my right hand. On the left side of my finger the skin wasn't broken, but on the right there was a deep puncture wound. The vet cleaned it up and put a band-aid on it, muttering something about how it might have hit a vein and how it might hurt like hell. "But it should be okay."
Lily Bear was brought out and, as I paid for her stay, the receptionist mentioned that she'd been bitten many times and it never came to anything.
But two hours into my shift at the chocolate shop, which began about an hour later, I was in such severe pain that I closed the shop and called the local urgent care center, which was, unfortunately, closed. So I figured I would ice the wound and go in the morning.
Events moved quickly the next day. The urgent care center sent me right to the ER. An infection had already followed the tendon in my finger into the palm of my hand. At the hospital, I was attached to a machine that began pumping antibiotics into a vein in my arm, an orthopedic surgeon showed up, and x-rays, an EKG, and volumes of blood were taken. Since I had eaten breakfast, surgery couldn't be scheduled until 4 that afternoon. It was my first surgery, and, for the first time in my life, I was given general anesthesia.
The surgeon made two incisions, one along the inside of the long finger next to the puncture, and one across the palm. The tendons were debrided and a drain placed in my palm. The surgery took about an hour, they tell me.
I woke up a while later and was wheeled into the hospital room where I would stay for the next four days.
The story isn't over yet, though I've been home another four days now, but what strikes me about the sequence of events is how strongly aligned they are with current astrology. How much more aligned can they be than this?
I'm not ready to speculate on the meaning of such a blatant manifestation of the current astrological geometry, but as Levine and Jawer point out, we're certainly not in Kansas anymore.
posted by Eve at 10:45 AM
6 Comments:
i believe you should ask the vets the name of the other women who failed to tell you how her dog could nip, from the dogs actions ,expensive medical bills and surgery arose. the dog bit you so hard that pain was incurd, an infection, it is wrong no matter if it was a child to an adult that was 100. imagine if the women said this to a child and the dog nipped at them. this angers me that the women got away with stupidity and can commit it again to innocent people and not warn them of her dogs tendency to bite .
It'll all be taken care of in time. This is only the beginning if the story.
The responsibility thing is interesting... (previous comment) I was checking out a doggie day care in North Carolina a couple of years ago, and while being shown through the facility, a dog ran up and bit me just below the knee, through my pants, enough to draw blood. The manager apologized -"that dog has bitten people before and shouldn't have been out". I asked if they had a first aid kit and some betadine....which they had to search around for, and it was clear she didn't know how to use one. She said, I can get you the dog owner's name if you have a problem. I paused, looked at her, and said,"actually, no, this if YOUR responsibility -- you are responsible for the well-being of both dogs and people here." It took her a few moments to get it.
Fortunately, the bite healed quickly. But the incident was a reminder of how quickly and readily our culture 'passes the buck', without even thinking.
I hope your vet reviews his waiting room policy for owners whose dogs have a history of biting (should be crated or isolated) and his protocol for injuries to humans -- see a 'people doctor', not a vet!
If the owner doesn't have home owner's insurance, I won't get a penny from her, I'm told. I do intend to make sure the vet's office understands their part in the story.
But you're absolutely right about responsibility. Apology is very cheap currency these days. Too many times a breezy "I'm so sorry!" covers real irresponsibility. It happened over and over when I was in the hospital: the nurse's "I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner. I had family members visiting" was about the worst - I'd been waiting 45 minutes to be released from the contraptions I was connected to to use the toilet.
I thought it was just a California thing.
Eve, I had no idea of the detail of injury or need for hospitalization. Now I am clearer about the many difficulties involved (company included) as well as the seriousness of it. The dog owner is grossly negligent and I sure hope she "gets it" in many ways of speaking.
Thanks, Susan. It was serious indeed, but as I get better, I see it more and more as a gift. I needed some time off; I got it.
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