Not The Average Work Day At Sam's House

Each Day Is Different.

Not the average work day at Sam’s house

On Saturday afternoon, January 25, 2025, when I was quitting, I was pulling on one more Ivy Vine root. It was about one inch in diameter, so I don’t know how old it was or how many runners it had leading off it. It didn’t want to give, so I gave it one last hard pull and nothing, but I lost my balance and fell. Going down, I either hit a small dead branch on the tree or something like it on the ground. I could feel a stinging pain in my left ear (not the hearing canal, but close to it.) I felt for my hearing aid, and it was still over my ear, and the ear part was still in the ear. At least I didn’t have to search for my hearing aid. It was quitting time anyway so into the house I went, changing my outdoor shoes before I brought half the outside sticks and mud into the house. I couldn’t see what I had done, but I knew there was some blood involved. Sam said, “Yes, there is blood. It is running down your check.”

We went into the bathroom to get a better look at it. As he was looking at it, he said, “You may need some stitches for it. He called Urgent Care, but they were closing in a few minutes, so this meant the emergency room.

My hospital was close, so it didn’t take him long to take me there. As we went in, I was pleased there were not many in the waiting room. They checked me in, determined what my problem was, put my wristband on, and asked me to wait in the waiting room.

The first person to call me wanted to take my vitals and any other information they needed. She said I could go back and wait in the waiting room.

It didn’t take long, and the second of my helpers arrived to take me to a room where they were to take some pictures of my head, just in case I had done something to it. It was my ear that hurt and not my head, and I could have told them that, but they said something about “It is standard procedure.” After the machine had done its rounds, I got off the table (really the bed) and put my glasses back on. I had left my hearing aids at home. She then said I could go back to the waiting room. I sat down near another couple seeking help. We talked, Well, I think I did most of the talking and gave them MY CARD. It says, “I WRITE, YOU READ.” It has my address where I publish my reading material. For my reader, it is written in lowercase letters like this: larryewhittington.substack.com/.

Before we had finished talking, the next lady called my name, and off we went. (Sam and I.)

She took me into my room to get it cleaned and looked at. Before they did much they put a yellow deadening cream in and on my ear. The deadening cream took about 20 minutes to be effective. Back she came, the cleaning person, to get the blood cleaned off. The next person was the real, live MD. After she did her examination, she explained, “You will need some stitches.” That was quick and easy.

It was only a few minutes later when the nurse who was going to put the stitches in came in. She also looked at it and said, “Yes, it needs some stitches.”

She had brought everything in that she needed, including a needle for more deadening medication. By then, the needle didn’t hurt, and she could do the stitches without me feeling pain. The inside of my ear is a small, cramped place. She had to use small needles shaped like a fishhook. It didn’t take her long to get the seven stitches in.

As I wrote this, I wondered if she got paid by the stitches. I doubt it, but I wondered about it.

Now, we are down to the last two visitors to my room.

The next visitor to the room was the one who packed the ear to keep everything dry and in place and then put a gauze wrapping around my head to keep the ear packing in place.

The last person was the check-out person with the papers and prescription.

I would never desire an emergency hospital visit for anyone, but that was the most pleasant time I have ever had in an emergency room.

God bless them all.

Written 1/27/2025

Larry E.Whittington