So... if you were not aware, I can be a total hot-headed, smug punk sometimes. As such, there are lessons to learn and debts to be paid- current said debt takes form as a 4'' long by 1'' deep gash in the calf! In hind sight, there were many signs I should have heeded to. The motor bike I rented was not even from a proper rental place-- it belonged to a mechanic and his wife and working through spotty english to arrange the deal was a total hassle. At one point he motioned for me to hop on his bike. We drive about 2 blocks away to another shop and pick up another bike. He motions for me to hop on the other bike and drive behind him back to his shop. My experience with manual bikes is very limited but on the first try I figured it out and follow him back to his shop. We settleed the deal. Paid up and gave our passports for collateral.
Once all was said and done, I hop on the bike to leave. All eyes are on me. "Is she really going to drive that?" I back the bike up and begin to accelerate.... aaaannnd it keeps accelerating.... aaaannnnd accelerating. I raced forward about 6 feet, very quickly, legs dragging on the ground trying to stop myself. Bike stops- engine revving. All eyes are really on me now! "I knew she couldn't drive!", their faces say. Just when I think I have it together and I'll drive off successfully and prove my upstanding motor capabilities... "no no folks... just kidding! haha!".... my lower leg feels hot and heavy. I look down. So confused- blood is gushing and I can see the insides of my flesh like I've never seen before. Is that bone?! What am I looking at! Crap. Northern Laos. Blood. Lots of blood. Did I say NORTHERN SLEEPY LOAS?!
I get off the bike and stand in shock, bending down for a moment, squeezing my leg above laosy wound. "What do I do?" I said to my fellow traveler, Thomas (who we'll now refer to as Big Baby Man). BBM says "I haven't an f-ing clue" and he's literally running around in circles. At that moment I knew this man was going to be of no help to me - whatsoever. Get it together Elise. Breath. Stay conscious. Don't look at your gushing flesh. Breath. I laid down and got my leg in the air- took of my headband and tied it just above the wound and Thomas and I starting saying "hospital"... "hospital". Soon a local man with a truck pulled up. BBM helped me into the back. I laid down and rested my leg up on the seat. Sorry about the blood on the seat dude... good thing your seats are pleather. The hospital is small. White, maybe new? Seems clean. No one speaks English. "Huang Nam... Huang Nam" I say. Ive gotta pee really bad! "Just go", Thomas says. I don't think so. Soon pain and necessity overtook the urge.
They prepared a table in the hallway for me. Why the hallway? "Maybe its cleaner?" I thought- I have no clue... but I was stitched in the hallway, surrounded by empty rooms with beds. Upon first resting on the table I was trying to wrap my mind around what was about to happen. What do I need to prepare myself for? At that point Laosy wound isn't bleeding anymore. "ok... they're going to stitch it up! Right?! Obviously. That's logical. They definitly are not going to cut my leg off. I know that much Phew." Then I sit up and have another peak at Laosy wound. "Ahhhhhh.... how the HELL are they going to stitch that?!" I thought. It was just so deep and from edge to edge, so wide and gapiong. I could bare the thought of then pulling the skin back together.
Ahh yes, but they will give me pain pills or local anesthetic right?! Yes!
Wrong. Thomas stood by my side while they stitched. I held his hand a pullsed and squeezed with each new stitch. The first stitch may have hurt the most. I attraced a crowd of onlookers. Each new set of eyes was accompanied by a ghastly look on their face as they caught glimpse of the wound. And then they looked at me and I smiled and then they smiled in relief. I broke a sweat and could feel the adrenaline pumping. My leg was so tense I concentrated on easing it up and relaxing into it. I figured it would be bad to have it stitched while my muscles were all contracted. There's just no way around this Elise. You just gotta dive in! I think around stitch 4 or 5 I starting singing Joni Mitchell's "Peoples Parties" which segues nicely into "same situation". I tapped into a part of myself that I hadn't known before. I'm serious-- It was kind of beautiful.
Since my doctor didn't speak English and I couldn't ask her how many times she had done stitches and what the severity of the wound was and whether or not she was breast fed, I just decided to make it all up in my head. I decided to manifest that she was extremely well trained... graduated top of the class actually in Muang Sing. She had an excellent day at work and received many compliments on her new hair doo. She was happily married and last night had the best sex of her. And so it was... and so the stitches were done exceptionally well.
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