He clamped a gauze pad on the holes, took my hand and said, "Firm pressure here and here until the bleeding stops. Tetanus booster."That brings me to mind a day in 2002...
"That's it?" I asked.
"Well, and a 'scrip for antibiotics. And some lortab -- your nose is going to be bruised."
"Hell with the lortab, I'll take a tylenol. Direct pressure?"
"Yep."
"Anything mild enough to be treated with pressure means we can still make the lake while the fish are biting. Thanks, doc!"
You know, one wouldn't think that particular statement would generate the sheer number of rolled feminine eyes that it did, but then the distaff side of the species has always been a pleasant mystery to me.
Fishing wasn't bad, either.
I distinctly remember saying to the team doc "If you tape it tight enough, can I stand? Good, then I'm going back in next series".
I'd had small fractures in my left ankle and both little fingers, when I got hit with three guys on one play.
We were against the all Germany champions, and I'd rather badly hurt their star linebacker on multiple plays (he was 235, I was 325 and moving just as fast, do the math). They had their guys gunning for me hard the entire second half, and by the beginning of the fourth quarter they were giving up plays to try and take me out.
I didn't feel it at all that night; but the next six weeks I was walking funny, and my pinkies and ankle have never been right since.
... but we won, and I only missed five plays.
