Shock is funny.
Working a day labor job, I managed a nice puncture into a leg, two-inches below the inside of the knee joint. I tied a direct compress onto the bleeding wound and hobbled about, telling all I'd be alright.

A another worker moved the compress and said, "You should take a look at this."

I saw some bone and went out like a light.

When I surfaced a minute later, I was ready to visit the hospital and, mirabile dictu, the pain had completely ceased. Cool.

The visit to the emergency room was typical: I had to wait for the employment service doctor and it was me and my expanding pool of blood under my chair and the horrified patrons on the opposite wall, watching it turn into a big, flat clot.
( tromboner cherophobia is my kind of fun, Mon 11 Aug 2008, 0:33, Reply)