Picture it – a quiet Sunday afternoon.

    Chatty is in the kitchen, mixing up the filling for some Chinese dumplings to the sound of the table saw whining (loudly, even through two rooms and a door) out in the garage.

    Suddenly – table saw goes quiet - door from the garage opens – voice of The Wiz:

    “HONeeeey!!!” "HonEEEEY!"

    Chatty (loudly, because she is listening to an audio book under earphones):

    “WHAT?”

    “I’ve cut myself pretty badly…”

    Chatty is cool, calm and collected panics immediately.

    “WHAT?!? WHERE?!?"

    "My thumb."

    Chatty notices blood dripping to the floor from her beloved’s hand – through the wad of paper towels he is clutching.

    Chatty has always been fine with seeing her own blood. But the blood of someone else - especially a loved one - not so much.

    Think, Chatty, Think!

    Quickly!

    Run, Chatty, Run!

    Already not quickly enough!

    Now, Chatty knows that she keeps some bandages in the bathroom, and she knows that she has mega-bandaging materials left over from our darling little  Cleo's

    Naturally, Chatty heads for the bathroom, because she is evidently stupid, and cannot for the life of her remember where the"big" bandages are. She THOUGHT that she left them in a bag hanging on the back of the kitchen door - but she doesn’t see them when she looks. So, to the bathroom she runs.

    The Wiz waits patiently as Chatty rushes around, and finally comes back with some pathetic little BandAids. She opens the box, and, glancing at The Wiz - who is bleeding through another set of paper towels - realizes that they will NOT be enough.

    Despairingly, she casts her eye back to the place where the “good” bandages should have been, and…there they are.

    Have you ever been in a blind panic - where you can’t see what’s in front of your nose? Well, if so, then you will understand.

    The Wiz is still waiting.

    Chatty rips open a giant surgical pad.

    Too big.

    She rips open a non-stick pad.

    Too small.

    She rips open a medium-sized gauze pad.

    Just right!

    Goldilocks The Wiz - gently, but with some urgency - inquires if we could hurry the process along a bit.

    He puts the thumb under running water.

    The sink turns red.

    We get the first gauze pad around the thumb, and he holds it while Chatty opens another pad and fumbles with the stretchy tape.

    We replace the first blood-soaked pad with the second pad, and Chatty secures it with the stretchy tape.

    The Wiz thanks Chatty, and remarks that he should probably head back to the garage to finish cutting the wood.

    Chatty’s reply is unprintable - but makes enough of an impression on The Wiz that he decides the wood can wait.

    He agrees to sit down for a bit – maybe even take an aspirin or two.

    Chatty says we should go to the emergency room.

    The Wiz says he’ll be fine, and sits down at his computer to play a game of...something - and holds his thumb up (elevated above the heart, to control the bleeding, as Chatty has pleaded that he do), but of course he only holds his thumb up until Chatty is out of sight.

    Besides, he only needs his right hand (his "mouse" hand) to play computer games, and it's his left hand that is injured, so...no problem.

    Uh huh.

    However, Chatty is still in a swivet, so she calls her friend Pat, aka  Mrs. S.

     Pat sighs. She has known The Wiz for many years...

    Meanwhile, The Wiz is snorting and muttering imprecations in the background, because he thinks Chatty and Pat are over-reacting.

    After hearing dire warnings about infection and nerve damage, Chatty hangs up - and she and The Wiz have a chat.

    He wants to leave Chatty's primitive bandaging alone for the moment - to give the injury time to stop bleeding. He informs Chatty that it’s "not so bad" – that the saw just took “a chunk” out of his thumb.

    Uh huh.

    A couple of hours later, The Wiz is ready to take another look at the damage, and to let Chatty re-bandage it more properly.

    Chatty will pass over the next few minutes, and just cut to the chase - wherein The Wiz remarks:

    “Ummmm. This looks pretty bad.”

    Chatty wheedles him into calling the Veteran’s Hospital hot-line to talk to a nurse and to get her advice. He agrees, and sits on "hold" for a while. A nurse finally talks to him. She is on speaker-phone, so Chatty can hear her.

    Nurse: “It sounds as if you need a few stitches. I really think you should go to the emergency room. Hand wounds especially are quite prone to infection, and infection sets in fairly fast. I do not think you should wait.”

    Chatty is very happy to hear that two nurses have now given the same advice.

    The Wiz hangs up the phone with a sigh.

    “Maybe I should go to the emergency room… (he brightens)... tomorrow?”

    We have another little chat, and reach a compromise. Chatty will not accompany him, because it is “no big deal” - but The Wiz will put on some shoes while Chatty makes him some iced tea for the road. He will stop and get some fast food for dinner, and will then proceed to the emergency room – with his book on tape, and some earphones. If the wait is long, he will call Chatty - and she will come to keep him company.

     His cell phone is dead, so Chatty sends him off with hers.

    Then, Chatty waits.

    For about 4 minutes.

    She decides to go to the store to buy The Wiz a nice steak, because she can’t just SIT AROUND WAITING. If he gets back soon enough, he can have a late-night steak dinner. If he decides the wait is too long - and comes home prepared to go back tomorrow to get it stitched up - he can have a nice steak dinner tomorrow night. Either way, The Wiz deserves a nice steak for acknowledging that his thumb needs medical attention that Chatty cannot provide.

    Chatty gets back from the store – checks the phone – no messages.

    So, she waits some more.

    Finally, at 10:10 pm, the phone rings.

    It is The Wiz, sounding cheerful.

    He is done, he informs her. No big deal. A shot of Novocaine. Seven stitches. Oh...and a tetanus shot.

    He plans to stop on the way home for some fast food.

    Chatty offers steak tonight, or steak tomorrow night.

    The Wiz decides tomorrow night will be better.

    Chatty hangs up the phone...and takes her first deep breath in six hours.

    The Wiz arrives home, clutching a bag of "mini sirloin burgers" in his good hand.

     Happily, he is neither surprised nor upset to find that Chatty has spent her waiting time writing a blog about the ordeal, and agrees to a quick picture. But ONLY ONE, because he hasn't eaten in forever, and he's starving - so Chatty takes a quick shot:

    Having ingested his mini sirloin burgers - the panic of imminent starvation having passed - The Wiz looks over Chatty's shoulder and remarks that it isn't a very good picture of him...

    Chatty refrains, with difficulty, from reminding him why...        

    Ah, yes...The Wiz will live to saw again...

    ...which Chatty is finding really, really difficult at the moment - because he will probably be out there tomorrow, whirring more wood through the table saw - and then asking Chatty to give him a new bandage...

   PLEASE NOTE: To any or all concerned - The Wiz is VERY GOOD at whatever he does - be it computer repair, construction, design, woodworking... the list goes on.

    Chatty also realizes that there is no way to stop The Wiz from his duly-appointed sawing, creating, etc.

    And mostly, that's a good thing.

    She just wishes sometimes that the stakes weren't quite so high.  For instance - few people suffer injury while repairing computers. She's just sayin'...

    As Chatty was writing this, The Wiz remarked that his thumb was starting to hurt, because the Novocaine was wearing off.

    Chatty shot back (knee-jerk-relieved-and-now-pissed) that he was lucky to still HAVE his thumb.

    The Wiz replied, very quietly:

    "I know."

    Let it be said clearly and loudly...

    Chatty adores The Wiz.

    UPDATE:

    Chatty being Chatty (now that the crisis has passed), cannot resist showing you pictures of THE CULPRIT. The Culprit has been rolled back into its "resting" position, near the computers where The Wiz does most of his work. Chatty sincerely hopes that The Culprit will remain there for quite some time, resting - and meditating upon its sins:

    Please note those  shards of wood still clinging to the blade.

    Chatty is absolutely CERTAIN that she can see little bits of blood on them, graciously donated by The Wiz.

    Hence, the tetanus shot...*grateful sigh to the VA doctor*