After hearing of my exotic adventures in foreign health care, Jason’s subconscious thought it might be fun to go find some kangaroos, too. Luckily for him, his body had other intentions.
|The weapon and victim|
On Good Friday, we had a lovely picnic on the beach with Jason’s family. We went snorkeling and Jason got to try spearfishing for a bit. He didn’t catch anything because he was too noisy, though he says it was because the rope was too short. (The spearfishing is done with a “gun.” The harpoon has a rope attached so when the fish gets speared, it doesn’t swim off with the harpoon. The rope is about 9 feet long, which is the distance the elastic or spring mechanism can shoot underwater with accuracy and force. Jason would like it pointed out that the gun he was using was shorter than 9 feet and the man who’s gun it was also didn’t catch anything. I think his manhood is hurting. Now he is glaring at me.)
As we were getting ready to head back to Melsisi, Jason decided to make a potty run and feed the cats while he was at the house. We hadn’t been home in a day and we weren’t planning on coming back that night, so we gave the cats some tin tuna. It keeps them happy, though they are such good hunters they don’t really need the supplemental food we give them.
While opening the tuna can, Jason cut his left index finger. He didn’t think much of it then, he just rinsed it out quick and stuck some cotton balls and tape on to staunch the bleeding and got back down to the boat. We were already running late.
We went through the rest of our day without any further incidents. Jason’s hand was thoroughly taped up, so I didn’t give it a second thought. It got to be bed time and I went to go shower. I came back from the shower to find Jason sitting on the front step saying, “uh oh” and looking pale. I asked him what was wrong and he looked away before showing me his hand. Please keep in mind, I just got out of the shower, which means I am holding a sarong around myself with one hand and my towel in the other. I was not in a state to deal with a large, fainting man or blood.
I told him to apply pressure and stop thinking about it until I got some clothes on. He did that and I got dressed. Then I took a proper look at his hand. The cut ran from one side to the other and looked pretty deep. No bone showing and only a little bit of fatty flesh I could see, but there was blood still coming out. That probably wasn’t helped by him pulling the cotton balls off.
Jason is not a squeamish person. He wouldn’t survive living with me if he were. He isn’t squicked out by poop, menstration, vomit, or any other gross things. However, he is very, very firmly convinced that his blood belongs inside his body. He is in fact, so convinced of this that he has fainted when giving three vials of blood for tests. The blood coming out of his finger really didn’t sit well with him.
While he stuck his head between his knees, I tried to figure out how I was going to get it cleaned up and whether or not I needed to call the Medical Officers. Jason being woozy finally convinced me to call. I put him in the shower to rinse off everything except his hand and went to call. I couldn’t get through, because our reception is that great.
I pretty much bathed Jason, because he was holding onto the wall. I tried the Medical Officers again and didn’t get through. This was Friday evening, which meant that if Jason was going to get Medevaced, he would be going on the Saturday morning flight. I knew I needed to get through to them, but I also wanted to get the cut cleaned and dressed.
For the sake of not trying to pry him off the floor, I decided cleaning and dressing first. Jason has lost a lot of weight here, but he is still a big guy and I didn’t want to try to move him if he fainted. As soon as I unwrapped the bandages again, he started complaining of dizziness, light-headedness and general fainting symptoms. I gave up.
I soaked three cotton balls in iodine, unwrapped his hand, put the cotton balls on and covered it in gauze and tape. It applied cleaning solution and he didn’t faint. I figured I’d either clean it better in the morning or he’d be heading to Vila where they could find someone his size to hold him up.
I did finally get through to our Medical Officer, who decided that since he had sensation and movement, he could stay on Pentecost. She put him on antibiotics, because things grow at a really impressive rate and told him to call in the morning after I’d re-dressed it.
The next morning, he did much better. There was less blood involved, which helped. We got it thoroughly rinsed with iodine and held shut with steristrips. Those things are awesome. Now, a little over a week later, he is wearing only a bandaid and not complaining of any pain.