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And here I was under the impression that Canadian medical centers/hospitals were so fucking great. Stitches 12 hours later? Really? Jesus.
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We were able to stop (or slow, really) it with normal cleaning and a band-aid, but it clearly wasn't going to close without some coaxing so we had a friend of the family stitch it up at his Private Clinic. It just took my parents the entire goddamn day to come to that conclusion.
Also, since we were living on the farm at this time it's entirely possible we didn't have access to a car most of the day for one reason or another. Still, probably the dumbest inaction my parents ever committed.
Speaking of which, that reminds me of another awesome story about my parents being medically retarded. This also happened on the farm. Much as I love that place, in hindsight it really beat the crap out of me over the years.
Anyway, my Grandma used to make homemade pizza once in a while. I'm not talking 'Little ceasers assemble yourself all products made from lamb parts', but proper Pizza. Fresh dough, home made sauce, etc...
And sausages.
Man, those sausages.
We were all sitting at the table chowing down on said Pizza, when I started choking. I didn't realize I was choking until my breathing became difficult. Turns out two sausage chunks that were connected by a thin strip of skin was stuck in my throat, anchored in my mouth. I think I went pale, and my eyes went wide. My mom looked at me for a second and just outright asked "Simon? Are you choking?"
I nodded and everyone just flipped, and my dad was the first to try and get it out. Except he was beyond the Heimlich maneuver, he had a better method: shoving his fat, smelly finger down my throat and trying to fish the hunk of sausage straight out. Everyone immediately freaked and and told him, well not do what he was doing. At this point I was pretty terrified. He managed to get it out after an excruciating amount of...let's say 'digging'. I am still not convinced it was his idiotic attempt at helping or my own body rejecting the odours that accompanied his ironically sausage-like digit and managing to squeeze the food out as well.
And then I tried to gross out my sisters by showing them the sausage chunk.
Terribly, it put me off Pizza AND sausage for a while. I mean, can you even imagine?