Section_31
Well-known member
This isnt exactly anxiety related, although i had a crazy night last night and havnt had a chance to tell anyone except my boss thus far.
My Dad was leaving for Italy this morning for a holiday. So last night hes running around the house, taking care of last minute details, and he comes up from the basement. Me and my wife are in the living room and from behind me he says "guys, ive got a problem, think i need to go to the hospital".
So i get up to go see whats going on, because my father will have to be half foot in his grave before he will seek medical attention for anything. And hes standing in a pool of blood. Like, i mean ALOT of blood. Turns out he had stepped on somthing very sharp (did i mention he was in bare feet?) and had torn a 2" gash in the soul of his foot. Its not just bleeding, its almost flowing. you get the idea.
So right away we put some pressure on it and bandage it up as best we can. By this point theres a bloody trail going through the house and it looks like some poor unfortunate person came to a grizzly end. So i help him out to my truck (its 11 pm by this point, im supposed to be going to bed by 10). We left My hunny behind to clean up the mess, which was her idea.
So off to the hospital we go, we get in, he gets checked in to the waiting area. 4 hours go by and they finally call him in. 3 stitches and a tetanus shot later, hes good to go. I had called my boss earlier in the evening to tell him id probably be late the next morning (this morning) and what was going on, the last thing i wanted was to be nailed for sleeping in when i had a real emergency on my hands. Luckily my boss was really good about the whole thing.
What i find ironic, and my dad and me were both laughing pretty good about this one, is that hes going on a WALKING tour in italy....and the night before he leaves this happens. Despite his being injured we couldnt keep a straight face about the whole thing.
Not anxiety related but really an adventure of the night. I dont know what he gashed his foot on in our basement, i go down there barefoot all the time. But somehow he managed it.
3 is the magic number, i think my turn will be next.
My Dad was leaving for Italy this morning for a holiday. So last night hes running around the house, taking care of last minute details, and he comes up from the basement. Me and my wife are in the living room and from behind me he says "guys, ive got a problem, think i need to go to the hospital".
So i get up to go see whats going on, because my father will have to be half foot in his grave before he will seek medical attention for anything. And hes standing in a pool of blood. Like, i mean ALOT of blood. Turns out he had stepped on somthing very sharp (did i mention he was in bare feet?) and had torn a 2" gash in the soul of his foot. Its not just bleeding, its almost flowing. you get the idea.
So right away we put some pressure on it and bandage it up as best we can. By this point theres a bloody trail going through the house and it looks like some poor unfortunate person came to a grizzly end. So i help him out to my truck (its 11 pm by this point, im supposed to be going to bed by 10). We left My hunny behind to clean up the mess, which was her idea.
So off to the hospital we go, we get in, he gets checked in to the waiting area. 4 hours go by and they finally call him in. 3 stitches and a tetanus shot later, hes good to go. I had called my boss earlier in the evening to tell him id probably be late the next morning (this morning) and what was going on, the last thing i wanted was to be nailed for sleeping in when i had a real emergency on my hands. Luckily my boss was really good about the whole thing.
What i find ironic, and my dad and me were both laughing pretty good about this one, is that hes going on a WALKING tour in italy....and the night before he leaves this happens. Despite his being injured we couldnt keep a straight face about the whole thing.
Not anxiety related but really an adventure of the night. I dont know what he gashed his foot on in our basement, i go down there barefoot all the time. But somehow he managed it.
3 is the magic number, i think my turn will be next.
