After four hours in the ER tonight, I have come home with very sore fingers on my left hand, but nothing is broken. This has been the day that was....
While I was putting out hay tonight, Copper, the six-month-old Dexter calf, slammed his stall door open which flung it around to the hay stall, catching two of my fingers between the his door and the metal strip on the hay stall door. The resulting scream could be heard to town. Long story short, while I initially thought I may have lost the tips of two fingers, when my leather glove was finally removed, the very deep black lines on my third and fourth fingers suggested possible break(s).
Since I was getting ready to milk, there was ice in the large bucket where I put my milk pail to keep the milk cold. John grabbed some, wrapped it in my jeans shirt, Don ran for keys, and off he and I went to the ER.... where we sat for four hours.
On the way to the hospital, we met a truck which flung a large rock at my windshield. It has a crack the size of a nickel. Fortunately, it didn't break. Sigh.
However, a very interesting thing happened in the ER. Five young people, most likely all between 18-20, were there. As we sat in the waiting room, their story unfolded.
Two of the young men had rolled their car down the mountainside after meeting a schoolbus that was more in the wrong lane than the right. The bus left the accident, but the young men, both apparently injured, managed to crawl from the car and get someone to stop and take them to the hospital. The people in the lobby were family and wives.
While neither young man appeared seriously hurt, the police were also apparently giving them, as we say here, down the road about the accident. The men declared they were not speeding and the officer agreed. However, he seemed determined to find some charge for them. Nothing was working. Now, here is the interesting and very encouraging thing. None of the young people swore, yelled, or behaved in anything other than a Christian manner. They were polite and courteous; they were concerned; they were supportive. However, no one raised their voice or behaved in any manner that would call attention to them. They were concerned about their family member /friends, but were not intrusive to the hospital staff or others waiting. In short, they were not the usual young people I often see. Refreshing!
On the way home, Don and I were discussing how they behaved in the waiting room and we have decided that maybe we do have hope in the up and coming generation. It was almost worth having my windshield broken and very sore fingers to make this discovery. Almost.