Are You Injured…Again?

Bonnie: “Did you just hurt yourself?”

John:  “No…a little bit.”

Bonnie:  “Are you bleeding?

John:  “No.”

Bonnie:  “Why is there blood dripping off of your hand?”

John:  “What? Oh…nothing.”

Bonnie:  “Do you want me to get you a bandage or a towel or something?”

John:  “No, I’m fine.”

The above conversation has happened more than once.  The end result can range anywhere from a sliver in his finger to a hospital emergency room visit.  I never know which way it is going to go in the beginning.  I have to become a stealth spy.  I can’t rush right over to look because he gets annoyed and tries to hide the injury even more.  He once hid a swollen infected thumb from me for days before I dragged him, kicking and screaming, to a doctor’s office.  (That injury resulted in a hospital stay…while we were on vacation in Mexico)  True, there have been some false alarms, like the time the white of one of his eyes went entirely red because a blood vessel burst and I rushed him to see the doctor who said “A blood vessel has burst. Leave it alone, it will heal on its own.” Still, it was his eye! Some things should have a professional opinion!

Anyway, back to the scene of the injury.  I have to be sly and sneaky in my approach.  I let him think he is walking past me without being noticed.  I pretend to be studying something in my hand.  I have learned to scan his whole body for evidence of injury without lifting my head and actually looking in his direction.  Then, when I can’t discern anything out of the ordinary, I go into full Nancy Drew mode and start looking for clues at the site of his last job.  What tools was he using?  Which tool looks as though it’s been dropped in mid use?  Are those droplets of blood or just wood stain?

I should also admit that I’m always mad at this point.  I’m mad at him for not being honest about what he has done to himself, I’m mad that he’s gone and hurt himself again, and I’m mad that I’m imagining the worse when it could be nothing at all or I’m imagining it’s nothing too serious when he could be passed out on the floor of the bathroom from loss of blood.  I’m mad because I just don’t know what’s really happened and I’m mad because I don’t really want to know.  I get queasy at the sight of blood and for some reason when someone I love hurts themselves…I feel it…physically.  I take it on.  If they stub their toe, my toe throbs for them, if they bang their thumb with a hammer, my thumb will ache all the way to my shoulder.  All of this just makes me cranky and, come to think of it, snarly.  What happened to sympathetic you ask?  Well that comes a little later, after I have a handle on the extent of the injury and I know what I’m dealing with.

So it’s:

  1. Accusing
  2. Sly and sneaky
  3. Angry
  4. Queasy
  5. Cranky
  6. Snarly
  7. Sympathetic

In that order.

Ok, so I’m starting to understand why he isn’t as forthcoming as I’d like him to be when he first hurts himself.   I imagine his thought process probably goes something like this:

  1. Ouch! I’ve hurt myself. (I’m keeping it G rated)
  2. Damn, I’m bleeding.
  3. Don’t let her see.
  4. Deny. Deny. Deny
  5. You can’t see my injury if I sneak by you.
  6. Oh, oh. I’m in trouble now.
  7. Why, sure you can rub my back and fetch me things because you feel sorry that I hurt myself.

So there you have it.  This is what happens in our house when John hurts himself; which, by the way, happens too frequently in my opinion.   C’mon man! I love the skin you’re in.  Please stop carving puncturing burning ripping slashing breaking hurting yourself.  What’s yours is mine remember.  🙂



  • Lozza

    Yeah reminds me of the time said “man” came with us to dinner at a another friend’s house. When he arrived the first thing I saw was a big dried blood spot on top of his head. Said man’s “wife” was away for the weekend so no one at home to question what happened. “oh its OK…hurt a bit at the time”. It so happened we were going to a Doctor’s house for dinner. Doctor took a look…”mmm…that should have been stitched…too late now though”.

  • Tracy Westerholm

    Thanks for the giggle Bon!

    I visualized every line of that! He knows your Sally Safety…perhaps he needs a safety vest and hard hat while he’s ‘on site’ I mean at home? A hockey helmet does great in a pinch!

    Captain Careful knows where to get the vest if you like…crossing guards have an endless supply.

    Honestly I think John’s on to you and getting too smart for ya, I’m thinking you need to install a hidden safety camera so you can swiftly go and watch the playback to make your assessment quicker.

    You two are going to be like cat and mouse when your in your 80’s or 90’s and I really hope I’m around to watch this all unfold! LOVE IT!

    Hey John, hard hats, safety vests, ripped jeans and steel toed boots are just plain sexy babe! Add that to a little dirt on your face and you’ll distract her from her sleuth mode…cut right to the massage!

    Just sayin…;)

    • Bonnie Johnson

      Ha ha! The cameras would be a good idea but he never stays in one place for long.

      He’s upset that I may have made him out to look accident prone (ya think?) but anyone who is constantly working is apt to get a few scrapes along the way.

      You’re right about the hard hats etc. gets me in “massage” mode every time! 🙂

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