This afternoon my 22 year old daughter told me the following tale. Last night she attempted to rescue a cat from the curious probing of three dogs. Her reward: a right hand with three puncture wounds and 5 or 6 substantial scratches. Both of my daughters tend to be considerably more tough and stoic than their father prefers. They do not get that from me (like my father, barring crisis that requires immediate action, I tend to be
vocal whiny about pain, and make liberal use of my health insurance to pursue professional advice and treatment). She washed her wounds in soap and water and hydrogen peroxide.
This morning she awoke and found it swollen and painful. So she washed, cleaned, and bandaged her hand, dressed for walk, and caught her train. Somewhere under the Hudson she began to feel tingling in her hands and feet, light headed, and a touch of nausea. The train was crowded and she was standing, so she asked someone if she could take a seat as she wasn’t feeling well. A man wearing hospital scrubs yielded his seat. The tingling became numbness, and she dropped her head below her knees because it felt better.
Across the train one Michelle S was watching, and decided to ask Chelsea whether she was OK. She said that she didn’t feel well, and didn’t know what was wrong. Mechelle persuaded her to get off at the next stop, hailed a cab, and accompanied her to the ER of the nearest hospital. Michelle stayed with her until she was seen for treatment, then slipped her card in Chelsea’s purse and asked her to check in later to let her know that she was OK. With anti-biotics, pain meds, and instructions to soak her hand in hot water every 2 hours for the next 48 Chelsea is on the mend.
On behalf of Chelsea, her sister Kevy, mother Kathy, her grandparents Bobbie, Bill, Jackie and Phyllis, her many cousins, and all her friends, I want to thank Michelle and declare her the Good Samaritan of Gotham for May 28, 2013. Many, many thanks for choosing to get involved!