Just yesterday I almost sheared off my pinkie finger from the rest of my left hand.
I knew exactly what to do medically and where to go to get stitches. I knew because a) I used to be an EMT and still hold my first aid certificates and b) I’ve hurt myself a lot [refer to title] and know the system here in Alberta. I know it well.
Not that I don’t have complete and utter confidence in my wonderful boyfriend to take care of me, but I wonder if I’ll be able to accomplish b) in the Netherlands. I mean, I know they have hospitals and trained professionals and are just as apt at fixing me there as the doctors and nurses are here, BUT what about health/medical insurance, are there 24-hour emergency/urgent care centres in the middle of nowhere, which is where I’ll be living? (holy run on sentence, Batman!)
These are the things I think about.
update 2126: I just sprayed myself in the eye with my favourite, calming night time scent, L’Occitane d’oranger. Last week I cut the knuckle of my left index finger with a pair of sewing scissors. I think that same day I burned my fingertips on an oven-hot food item. Maybe my body just acts quicker than my brain.