Leaving me in stitches

I got to go to the emergency room yesterday evening.  It was terribly exciting.

I should back up a bit.

So, I had a little accident in martial arts class.  I'd like to glamorize it and say it was some funky martial arts move, but it wasn't that.  I had a collision with another student as part of a warm-up exercise.  The end result was a deep, nasty, bloody gash in me.

After the blood was more-or-less staunched (head wound, good times), I trekked home, changed into less-sweaty and bloody attire, hopped in my trusty Preciousssssss, and headed off to seek medical attention.  It was determined early on by the kind ladies who were bandaging me up at class that I'd likely need stitches and should probably have a medical professional confirm that.

Good times.

So I found myself in emergency.  Last time I went into an emergency room, a family member was having a very extreme bit of medical care.  Not a happy memory. And the nurse took note that I was shaking.  Heh.

The wait was pretty short.  I was called in for the stitches in a few minutes.  What surprised me was the airport-level of security.

Yes.  Metal detectors.

And I often carry more than one little tool or knife.  I felt like I was in that "Beyond Thunderdome" scene as I handed off my Skeletool and pocket knife (and a very tiny screwdriver) to the security guy for safekeeping.  I was terribly embarrassed too.

About a half hour later of friendly, courteous, and reasonably-painless medical service, I trekked out to reclaim my items with some stitches, a big bandage over said stitches, all sorts of instructions, and a throbbing arm from a tetanus shot (has it really been so long?).

I reclaimed my items and apologized to the security folks for stupidly bringing these things into an emergency room.

The security woman laughed and said: "Honey, this ain't nuthin'.  We seen folks come in here with butcher's knives and even a steak prong."

She produced said meat prong to support her claim.

"Hell, we were admiring the fine quality of things you have here."

(She was talking about the knife and tools, you filthy-minded reader, you)

Amused and relieved to be all patched up, I returned home exhausted.  The adrenaline had long-since drained away and I was feeling really tired and shaky.

All said, I'm surprised how well everything went.