Hello, Doctor!

(This post is about my recent injury I experienced trying to make dinner.  I waited until it healed to post about this so there is no need for you to be concerned...unless you want to be concerned about my cooking abilities.  And that, my friends, would be quite a valid concern.)

As I sat there in silence, I realized I probably could have planned this out better.

Words I thought to look up in my brick-sized “pocket” dictionary:

To cut, thumb

Words I knew from all those years of French class:

Last night, I, my

As I prepared for my first encounter with a doctor in France, I reviewed which tense I should use.  It happened in the past.  It happened once.  Got it.

I proudly walk into the health center on campus and say to the secretary, “Last night, I cut my thumb.”

Perfect.  She understands and tells me to sit down and a doctor will see me in two minutes.  I have a good feeling about this encounter.

In retrospect, I suppose the giant wad of paper towels and masking tape surrounding my thumb could have worked just as well for communicating my injury and my “research” could have included more useful phrases, including any or all of the following:

“Yes, that is also a cut.  Please stop scrubbing it.”

“Why aren’t you wearing any gloves when you’re dealing with my open wound?”

"Talking louder but just as fast is not helping me understand any better."

“Could I please see your medical degree?”

Needless to say, my experience seeing the doctor was about as emotionally painful as my bread-cutting injury was physically painful.  I’m still not sure what her instructions were to me.  I know she told me it could possibly get infected.  And she showed me some type of antibiotic I suppose she wanted me to put on it.  Oh, and she told me not to have it near water.

Or maybe it was that I was supposed to drink a lot of water.