Roak Circumcises Finger in Desperate Hope to Bless Mythic Progress 2/10M

Greetings followers of Onineko’s #1 News Platform the Roak Poast and welcome to this edition of Roak Poast EXTRA TIME as we go beyond the boring heroic difficulty and into what we’re all really here for, repeatedly wiping on mythic bosses!

The night began like most others, I was in the kitchen helping to prepare dinner with the wife, when I remembered that we bought a really big and sharp new knife. Figuring now as good a time as any to break it in, I decided to see how I’d go cutting some carrots with it. My wife was very clear, she wanted the carrots – “julienne” so I set about trying to get these carrots cut.

Well it all went pear-shaped about a minute in when the knife slipped on the not-exactly-flat carrot, rolled over the top of my finger and went right through! I could tell immediately as I saw the centimetre of finger barely attached, that this wasn’t good. Yelling at the wife to find out the closest emergency room, I wrapped my hand up in some paper towels and we got ready for her to drive me to the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital

Eight minutes later after abandoning my wife as she went to find parking, I’m at the reception to the emergency room. Only I’ve never been a patient at this hospital before, do I mind just filling in this form? Fortunately I’m left handed and I cut my right hand, so with a bit of effort I can manage starting to fill the form.

While busy trying to remember my wife’s phone number, I get called in by the Triage Nurse Junie. Junie, sets me up to take my blood pressure on my right arm, it’s not until I’m wrapped up and the machine turned on, do I realise that, checking blood pressure on the arm that is currently leaking blood might not be such a great idea. Before I can voice my concerns, Junie has left to go get some gauze to better wrap my finger and I’m left to endure the sweet pulsing sensation of blood being forced out the gaping hole in my finger.

Junie comes back and get’s ready to unwrap and treat my finger. Not exactly comfortable, I turn my head away, Junie informs me that this is a good idea and I should keep my head turned. Junie is trying to be helpful, but the thought that even a Nurse doesn’t wanna look at this is not exactly comforting. By the time he’s done, and I’ve turned my head back, there is a small pool of blood collecting on the floor underneath my hand. Good stuff! Fortunately however, my wife has just arrived and is sitting in the waiting room, just in time it seems, as Junie has finished the emergency triage and I’m right to wait for a doctor.

And so we waited! About five minutes in, a different nurse comes out, apparently my blood pressure results came back a bit peculiar (who’d have thought?) and so she wanted to test it again. She also asked me about pain relief and came back with a cup full of pills for me (nice!).

A short time, perhaps twenty minutes later. Doctor Brooke called me into the next room. Asking some cursory questions, she decides to take a look at what’s going on with this finger of mine. Carefully she unwraps it (my head turned for safety reasons as my wife morbidly looks on) and starts inspecting all aspects. “Hmm…” she says as I try to decide if that’s blood running down my hand or just my imagination.

“I’m going to need a second opinion to see if you’ve hit the nail bed. If you’ve hit the nail bed, we need to go to plastics.”

What? Plastic surgery, you’re gonna make me a new finger? This can’t be good.

Brooke disappears and comes back with her supervisor and they both take a look. This time I know my blood is just dribbling out but I suppose at this point it doesn’t matter. The supervisor and the doc decide that I’ve just missed the nail bed, no super massive plastic middle finger for me, but otherwise it should heal really nicely between some stitches and a bit of glue. The supervisor tries explaining this to me, but at this point I just want it taken care of and to go home and get some McDonald’s.

Brooke vanishes to find a room where she can put me back together, and five minutes later, we’re in the sterile room of Supply Closet A (not the actual name but you’d be hard pressed to tell the difference). As she begins to set up, the nurse returns with a big ol’ needle full of tetanus vaccine (it’s been some time since my last tetanus shot folks) and jabs me with that before going back to possibly stabbing other patients. Not quite done with needles yet, Brooke comes over with a syringe full of local anaesthetic and then jabs me twice with that. Good times, but at least I can’t feel my finger anymore?

Finally, we are ready to begin our tailoring lesson. Using a makeshift table and several layers of blood absorbing mats. It turns out that Brooke is a Necrolord as she begins to artfully sew the loose flap of finger back together. In an effort to keep myself distracted, I chat to Brooke, with the missus in the corner eyeing me off suspiciously. Once done, Brooke is so damn proud of her work, she takes a photo to show her supervisor. A job that any Stitchmaster from the Necrolords would be proud of.

That’s when I turned my head and saw the now, very large pool of blood that had gathered underneath my hand. Oops. Brooke apologised as she hurriedly attempted to mop it all up.

With my finger sorta looking like a finger again, (albeit a frankenstein stitched finger) Brooke admits that she is actually quite poor at dressing wounds, and she must go speak with the nurses to get some tips on how best to dress this. Good stuff!

Brooke comes back a few minutes later with another doctor, the two marvel at the stitching job for a few moments (apparently it’s really good), before applying this fancy dressing that rolls over the top of the finger, and almost makes it look neat and nice. Brooke tells me that we’re done and that I need to book in to see my GP tomorrow and create a “wound care plan”.

We exit back into the waiting room while Brooke writes a letter for the GP. Only now does my wife lean in and whisper to me. “How come you were so charming to the doctor?” Offended, because obviously I’m a charming mother fucker all the time, when the missus bursts into laughter at my obvious anxiety at this whole experience. Approximately fifteen minutes later Brooke returns with the letter and we’re finally out of the hospital!

Oh and I think you guys killed two mythic bosses or something.

0/7 Roaks, would not cut again.

P.S. I did end up getting my McDonald’s.