My lovely dad came over to help me tidy and organise for Mark’s 40th on the weekend, and we had a productive morning, a lovely lunch, and were just getting stuck in to our afternoons work when I asked dad to get rid of the spiderwebs in Cocky’s house.
Dad didn’t want to vacuum with her in the house, so he decided to move her. I strongly recommended against it, but he insisted. She resisted, and dad ended up with a few holes in his arm, and one nasty one in his hand, that spurted blood.
Spurting. It doesn’t take much blood to look like an awful lot. Dad was a bit shocked, and I completely freaked. Dad wanted to go to a medical centre, but of the 2 I know around here, one is festy and foul, and the other you need to book 2 days ahead (I’m planning to be really ill on Tuesday next week, can you book me in?). So I dragged him off to hospital.
He’s fine. After about 10 minutes in the hospital, the bleeding stopped. The triage nurse recommended a tetanus shot, and then dad waited around for hours for the shot, and a script for antibiotics.
I am officially paranoid, but watching your beloved father bleed like that will tend to freak you out.