Tuesday afternoon I arrived in Athens. Wednesday morning I broke a glass while washing up and cut my finger. It was quite a deep cut but I managed to stop the blood and apply a plaster (thank God for mini first aid kits).
My friend Kathy came round to pick me up so we could go swimming, and I asked her to drive past the chemist's so they could take a look at my little injury. Bad idea, as the chemist promptly advised me to have it checked by a doctor and directed us to the nearest Emergency Department.
To be honest, I was very tempted to just skip the hospital and take my chances, but Kathy drove us to the local hospital despite my vague attempts to convince her I'd probably be fine. I'm really not overly fond of hospitals. Up until last Wednesday, I'd never been treated in a hospital and was rather hoping to keep it that way.
Anyway, it wasn't meant to be. Despite my injury looking pitifully unimprotant covered by a regular (albeit very tightly applied) plaster, I was fast-tracked through and had a nurse examining my finger within 10 minutes of setting foot in the Emergency Room.
The nurse seemed to think that the cut didn't need stitches, but the Cute Doctor who came to take a look disagreed. I'd had stitches when I had my wisdom teeth taken out (and let me say here that I'm the only person I know who hasn't got a tale of woe to tell about their wisdom teeth, in fact, that was the quickest and most painless 400€ I've ever spent) but still I wasn't too keen to repeat the experience - even if it meant spending longer with the Cute Doctor. I must admit I had a short moment of doubt, but as soon as I saw the tray with the needles and other implements, I immediately decided the nurse knew better.
A short conference followed, the Cute Doctor argued his case, the nurse and I argued ours, the nurse and I won. I left hospital 20 minutes later with a well-bandaged finger, a prescription for antibiotics and instructions to refrain from swimming and housework for 10 days, as I mustn't get the bandages wet AT ALL. I don't mind the no swimming rule or the no housework (as if!), but having to wear latex gloves for washing is yucky. Still, I left hospital without a single stitch, which is the best news. Latex I'll cope with (but why, oh why do latex gloves smell so awful?).
This is the glass that attacked me. Let's just say it will do no more damage. Hehe.
It's been 4 days and counting since my little accident. Another 6 days to go before I have my finger back. At least I can still type.