I didn't realize she was using a kitchen knife...
Now I'd had a few close calls with selfsame brownies and knives before - you try to slice through the edge of where it's sticking to the pan, and it just doesn't loosen up, so you try to pry into it, and kaPOW the brownie suddenly releases it's death grip upon the womb and you are going "ye gods, I'm glad my hand wasn't an inch further to the right." I'd determined that our metal spatula worked better to pry them out, even if it didn't have a sharp edge to slice through the joining bond of brownie and pyrex.
So yes, we were at this, and I hear a yell akin to "oh FUCK, oh fuck, I stabbed the knife through my hand, ow ow ow ow ow!!!!" The first thing I see when I turn is otana frantically turning on cold water to run over her hand. The second thing is the knife, blade nicely upturned, a visible inch of blood on the tip.
Kick brain into emergency overdrive - I rush to the bathroom, hoping to find her bandage or gauze, but nothing is turning up and seconds are ticking. Finally I grab a washcloth, race back to the kitchen, convince otana to give me her hand (rather desperate to get it out of the running water, as I didn't know how bad it was) and take a look at it. There was about 3/4 inch gash, but thankfully only on one side - so, worst-case scenario in my mind eliminated, it didn't go all the way through. I press the washcloth to stop the bleeding, and coax her down to the floor, because next thing you know the shock IS going to kick in and she'll fall over if she isn't sitting - I know this from experience thank you very much.
The bleeding slows and stops surprisingly quickly. With janusjanice as errand boy (she did not want me to leave her side, and I hardly wanted to if it could be helped) we found her gauze and bandages, as well as our Neosporin Plus. Hoping it will at least dull the surface pain, I apply the Neosporin, then pad and bandage. More pressure.
I can't for the life of me figure out how bad it IS - it didn't go clean through, and the cut seemed angular, so perhaps it was shallow and long as opposed to deep? otana confirms that no, it went INTO her hand, thank you very much. Finally I make the decision to get her to the ER, because her pain is simply not fading at all (hey, I'm optomistic). It's clear this is something we should not try to weather through at home, it needs medical attention.
Cue drive to Brotman ER! (I totally need flashy-light-things for my car roof.) The drive is frustratingly long, but I don't see how anything over five seconds WOULDN'T have seemed too long.
Ho boy, there is paperwork before they'll even look at her. No, she doesn't have a Social (actually, she does, but I'm fucked if I know what it is and none of us thought to grab her ID), No she isn't insured (a blind spot in the immigration system, there is no way for her to get medical insurance during this time in the visa), All right now go sit over there and someone will see you...
... within six hours. Within six hours?! Dude, we have a fucking KNIFE WOUND and they will get to us in six hours? Well okay, granted, the bleeding is under control, no vital systems are in danger, but dude. DUDE, what the fuck.
It was unexpectedly painful to write down "friend" as our relationship. But sardonicus was the fiance, so, I didn't know what else to write. I didn't want to jeapordize her legal status with the AOS or anything...
I think we waited for two hours, otana sobbing in my arms from the pain, me unable to do anything other than hold her.
Finally a short, stocky nurse with severe lazy-eye/exotropia, red spiky hair, and a kind smile called otana in. They gave her a heated blanket (she was freezing from the shock by now, and it wasn't all that warm in the waiting area either), inspected her hand and made sure she didn't need to go into surgery.
Then the nurse called me in, explained that they were absolutely swamped (the ER didn't seem that busy, but I couldn't see behind the scenes, so yeah), that otana would need stitches and it was best for us to wait so we didn't lose our place in line. She didn't want us to give up and leave, and try to get stitches in the morning.
Aaaaand more waiting. sardonicus arrived, having taken the bus or something after speaking on the phone with Janus. (He got to get home and find all the blood, hooray! And clean it up too! Hey, just like work...) Oh yes, but apparently I did do a good job wrapping things up. I will be strutting about that for a while. Very proud of myself.
When they finally called her to get stitches, I shooed sardonicus to go with her. He's the fiance, you know? I still think my reasoning was sound, but it's still hard knowing she panicked and I wasn't there. I'd promised to stay with her and take care of her, and then I wasn't there. But she reassures me it was a good decision, good reasoning, and she's glad he was there. Of course if he hadn't gotten in I would have been there. Anyway, all's well that ends well, the staff was brilliant and helped her through it. I wasn't there, so I can't recount much more than that!
Afterwards, it was roughly 3am, we were all exhausted and absolutely starving. So we went to the Norm's on Pico, where the waiter/manager/dude in uniform was absolutely awsome and there were waffles and french toast and hash browns and fruit. Somehow we made it home, and bed (around 4am), and taking today off from work.