Friday morning, I slammed my left hand in our sliding shower door. It bruised me, cut my first finger and ripped the pad of my middle finger apart, creating a huge ‘flapper.’ It was 5:45 in the morning, and it hurt so damn bad that I couldn’t get myself to function well enough to bandage my own finger. I had to drag Zack out of bed at 5:45 to bandage me up so I could go to the hospital for my clinical rotation. On the Infectious Disease floor. With my brand-new open wounds.
When I got to the hospital my clinical instructor pulled apart my bandaids and surveyed the damage. She told me that I was going to need to splint it so the wound wouldn’t keep flapping open. And she also told me that I was going to need a hell of a lot more than just a bandaid on there to protect my finger. I asked her if she had any ideas, and she was like, yeah. I think we can figure something out.
Turns out, all you need to splint your fingers and protect yourself against an entire day of wet, disease-filled bandaids is two fingers from a non-latex glove and some tape. A lot of tape.
