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I spent waaaaayyy too much time typing this. If it gets locked, I understand.
On Valentine's Day about six or seven years ago, my partner and I planned on having dinner with friends. I was putting the finishing touches on a gift for one of our friends, who'd recently lost her wife. I noticed that the hand-made lace looked a little loose in one spot, so I pulled out an extremely small steel crochet hook (the hook part is about as big as the tip of a ballpoint pen). I was just mending it when I managed to drive it about two inches deep into the palm of my hand. I screamed. My partner, fresh out of the shower, came running into the living room. He took one look at my hand, and passed out (did I mention he has a fear of needles?). Anyway, so there I was, with this big ass spike sticking out of my hand and my 6'5", 250 lb partner out cold. I had to dial 911 myself. They helped my partner, but were completely unwilling to do anything but take me to the hospital once they heard the word "hook embedded in my hand".
So I get to the hospital, and after telling the nurse my problem, she promptly asks me to WRITE DOWN MY INSURANCE INFO. I showed her my hook again. A guy sitting in the waiting room with a bloody towel over his mouth looked at it and said, "God damn!" I was ushered into the ER.
After getting a lot of stares (people kept coming into my area to gawk) and x-rays (the x-ray techs asked if they could take extras for their wall of weirdness), I was told we'd have to wait for a plastic surgeon with expertise in hands to ensure I didn't have any nerve damage. He was having dinner with his wife. This prompted me to ask about my partner, who's normally very supportive. Turns out he'd passed out again.
By the time the doctor showed up, there were at least half a dozen people in the curtained area JUST FUCKING STARING AT ME AND MY HAND. I asked the doctor if all these people had to be there, and he cleared the room. It took all of about ten minutes to get the damn thing out of my hand, including the time needed for the local anesthetic to take hold. I retained full use of the hand. My partner also made a full recovery.
Later that same year, over 4th of July weekend, I had an attack of the hives at 3 in the morning. I went to the same hospital. By the time the doctor came in, my face looked like a basketball. I said to the doctor, "I'll bet I'm the strangest looking patient," And she said, "No, not at all. We had a lady in here last winter who got a crochet hook stuck in her hand," My partner suggested she read my file. Yes, I got an apology.
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