Saturday, October 3, 2009

Lucas' First Blog Post


Peeling my twelve year old from the television, I demand he find some other way to spend his free time. It’s a Monday night. His father and little brother are at an Adventure Guides meeting and I am perched in front of my computer. Trying to steer Lucas in directions that don’t include a screen (reading, sports, crafts, and laundry do not naturally interest him despite my nagging....and whittling wood and fire play is not an option). I suggest that he try writing, for the 27th time this month. He is a quick wit and I imagine nothing could be more entertaining than a tween boy’s real life perspective.

“What do I write about?” he moans, slowly showing interest.

“Sit down and write about your sliced finger. Tell me how you experienced it and what you remember about that day.”

He starts typing away and I am thankful I forced him to become intimate with Mavis Beacon (before video gaming and TV) over the lazy summer months. Despite having a stitched scabby index finger, thirty minutes later he has created the following account…ahem.


I have stitches
How???? Well…
The answer is a boy, tree, and a pocket knife. Yep, a pocketknife. I was up at Lake Sequoia, four hours from home. It’s near Bass Lake, and has some other camps within its perimeter. It’s a pretty big camp with archery, a rock wall, boating, swimming, fishing and a lot of other really fun things. It was about four o’ clock when we got there with my other friends. We unpacked and walked around this enormous camp. My friends started to whittle some sticks to make them sharp, so I asked my dad for his Swiss army knife. We whittled, and then went in the dining hall to check it out. It was pretty cool. My friend and I played Mancala; a marble board game.

It was around dinner time when my friend and I started shoving the pocket knife in a tree. I did not lock the pocket knife, and due to pressure the knife closed on my finger. About 5 seconds later I noticed the cut, it wasn’t too bloody…yet, but it was to the bone! I ran to my dad, finger up, applying pressure. (Aren’t I smart?) My dad wanted to know when it happened and where, but I screamed, “CAN WE FIX THE CUT???!!!”

So we showed one of the leaders, Ronny, and he cleaned up and bandaged the cut. I felt all cold and dizzy, but I didn’t faint. (Whoo.) About 10 minutes later we left for the hospital. It was supposed to be an hour away, but at 8:30 at night my dad got lost and we got there at like, 10:30. We checked in and all that stuff. They called me, my dad, and my little bro into a room. They asked about my medicine and medical past, but that’s a whole different story. When they took off the bandage wrap the nurse said “you need stitches,” before I could count to three.

We sat in the really miniature room and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Then finally someone came in to check on us and get our billing information. Then this other nurse came in to set up for the doctor, and clean up my finger. About 6 or 7 minutes later the doctors came to check on us. He told me to try to bend my finger. It was kind of hard, but after that my finger started bleeding really bad. He wanted to see if I cut one of my tendons, I did not, and I was HAPPY. Then, I had to use the restroom, which was challenging. When I returned, I got two numbing shots on both sides of my right-hand pointer finger. (Luckily, I am a lefty.) When my finger was numb and clean, he sewed the stitches in. I was scared, but it only took five minutes to put in all four stitches. It was really cool. We called my mom and told her everything, at around midnight when we got out of the hospital. We stayed at a hotel and got back to camp the next day around 9:30 in the morning. The rest of the camp was awesome! I couldn’t swim, but I didn’t care because I don’t like cold lake water anyway. I could do archery which was fun, and I got a couple of bull’s-eyes. (Yes!) That camp was amazing! I totally recommend it. It’s called Camp Sequoia.

So, that’s how I got stitches that stayed in my finger for a week and four days.

The End

1 comment:

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