It all started with a gleam in my eye on a sweltering day. I walked out of the cafe and saw a group of our boys playing in the water. Most had their backs towards me; a perfect opportunity to jump in to the water and dunk a few heads before they even knew what hit them.
I slowly crept towards them while removing my shoes and glasses. Right when a few were turning around I pounced! I jumped onto a small cement barrier and high into the water right at the edge of their group.
What should have been a refreshing experience immediately turned into confusion...I jumped and both of my shins slammed into something big!
It seems the boys had overturned this very large blue container that they like to play with in the water. It's best remembered as a key prop in our Ice Bucket Challenge.
Wayne has a blog post on the Wat Opot site about the boys playing in the water with it also: click here
So this blue thing was turned over and floating about two feet under the water. In my excitement to surprise the boys, I didn't notice that they were positioned higher than they should have been in the deep water...My shins hurt after the jump and upon realizing what I jumped on, I started to laugh. I figured I bruised them bad but it didn't stop me from standing on it and becoming queen of the blue thing; well until they ganged up on me and my reign ended with a not-so-graceful fall off my throne.
At that point I figured I would crawl out since my legs were starting to hurt. As I got out someone yelled "Melinda cheaum (blood)" I looked down and there was a small but deep gash in my right shin. I limped over to Wayne and casually said "Do you think this needs stitches" to which he replied "Yeah".
I've mentioned it before that in Cambodia (and many countries) they do not have easy access to anesthesia, so you are stitched up cold turkey. The kids here are super tough and do not cry from pain easily. It's nothing for Wayne to stitch up a head or foot and everything in between with the patient patiently enduring it.
It's been kind of a running joke that I not-so-secretely wished to have stitches here. It was usually a good hearted conversation between me and Kate, such as "I wish I would get hurt so you can stitch me up". When I actually was faced with the fact that I did indeed have to get some stitches; that a needle would be forced into and out of my skin without so much as a painkiller, the humor quickly dissolved.
As Wayne readied the 'clinic' I had Rortana run to get me a towel since I was still soaking wet. As I busied myself putting the towel on the desk and positioning myself with easy access to my shin, I started to feel nauseous. Why in the hell did I ever think I wanted this! This is going to hurt BAD!
I like to think I have a high tolerance for pain but as soon as that needle pierced my tender hurt skin, I thought I was going to throw up. There was a small crowd of children outside the window and I tried to play it calm, but IT HURT! SHIT it HURT! When Wayne tied it off I again thought I would throw up! I could feel everything! I could feel the cut being brought together as the string was tied into a knot. I looked down and thought "thank goodness it's over" but then I looked again and said "I don't think it needs another stitch, right?" and Wayne replied, It probably needs another one.
I slowed down my breathing and unclenched my hands from the sides of the desk and endured another stitch. Even as I type this I am getting nauseous, half of the pain is knowing that the needle punctured my skin twice. I can still feel it going in, slicing through my tender tissue and back out the other end.
You try to think about it without squirming? Can't do it can you?
I have a whole new understanding for the following posts and a whole new respect for the people.
I am now laying in my bed on the computer and the girls just came in to check on me and brought me a cup of hot tea...maybe being injured isn't that bad after all.