Stitches

8 all told. Sorry, posting will be a little light this week as all hell is breaking loose and Asian Grandma's busting her pinky finger open and I'm undercover with investigators busting crooked contractors and the Humane Society is busting retailers who sell fake fur that is actually Chinese dog fur. Go figure. Should be some good TV news though.

On our way home from some sad news of our own, we open the door to find Asian Grandma pale and clutching bloody paper towels around her right hand.

"I don't know what happened. I was just putting dishes away when two bowls fell and all of a sudden I was bleeding." 

"I'm bleeding pretty bad, actually. But it's stopped. I think."

She thought wrong. The Good Doctor, finally, finding an in-home use for his 24 years of schooling and residency took a look at her gaping cut and was like, "Umm. You need stitches. Yeah. I think we should get you some stitches." 

So we hooked her up to the Michael Jackson propofol drip we have "just in case" in the guest room and got it done. Perks of being married to an anesthesiologist! She's sleeping soundly now.

Actually, The Good Doctor and Asian Grandpa took her to the E.R. where they gave her 8 stitches in her primary cut on her pinky. One stitch on the arm cut. 

And she thought all she needed was a band aid. Immigrants.