So I know that teaching was definitely a better line of work for me than anything in the medical field. I learned this first hand a few weeks ago.
I was trying to prepare for my elective class that I teach. We were on our sewing unit and I was cutting up square samples of material that my students could sew on. I was in a hurry as I was using a rotary cutter. In my hurry, I didn't notice that my left index finger was in the pathway of the blade. I sliced of a good chunk of my finger, basically that side part of the finger where the cuticle is and maybe barely getting a sliver of the the fingernail. Luckily I had a baby wipe nearby which i grabbed to keep from bleeding all over the place.
I couldn't tell how bad the damage was cause there was so much blood, but still surprised at what I'd done, I walked out to the front desk and announced to the receptionist that I'd just cut off some of my finger. She didn't have the stomach to look at it so she had a nearby man assess the damage. That drew others in to see what was going on. As I heard comments such, "Oh, that doesn't look good" or "You'll probably need stitches" or "They're going to have to sew that back on", I began to get queezy. "I need to sit down", I said.
I must have been quite the sight. There I am in the lobby of the school surrounded by about 6 people, bloody make-shift bandages everywhere and about this time, my eighth grade students begin to walk in from lunch. I overhear them say, "What's going on with Miss Wilkins?" Those surrounding me ask, "Do you feel ok? You look like you're going to faint. You're pretty pale." I've never fainted, so I'm not sure what that feels like, but I'm pretty sure the way I was feeling is the precursor to fainting. I admitted to them that I was really grossed out and felt queezy. I also began to feel a tingling sensation going up both of my arms and I was shaking like a leaf. One man helping that was first aid certified said that I was beginning to go into shock. With that confession I found all sorts of people offering their remedies. One teacher offered me her apple, the principal brought me a candy bar, one parent volunteer brought a chair over to prop my legs up on and another man forced me to recline and take deep breaths.
Whenever I'd complain of any ache or pain in the past, my dad would say something like, "Welcome to the world of sports." Over the years, I learned to toughen up a bit and I think I kind of prided myself on that fact. Yet this day all pride was torn down. Yes, I was a complete girl over a cut finger. But hey...I didn't cry :)