So my mother hustles her off to the MedHelp clinic. From what I was able to gather from the scene of the accident, my sister was trying to slice a rather tough block of cheese, the knife slipped and cut her finger instead, and because she was already bearing down so hard--you get the picture.
Then later I hear from my stepfather, who has talked to Mom, that MedHelp says they can't do anything for her. She's going to have to go to the university hospital. I'm starting to feel a little sick about this now.
Two or three hours into this, I get a call from my sister. She sounds deadpan and very tired.
"Oh my God, is everything okay?"
"Yeah, well... looks like I cut through the tendon. But I still have sensitivity. They made it sound a lot worse than it actually is, even worse than I thought it was. So I'm going to go into surgery... whenever. Stitches. I don't know if they're going to give me anything, though."
"They're not going to give you any anesthesia?"
"I don't know. I'm just afraid--see, you know all the medical shows I watch." She was really into ER back in the day, and now she's into Grey's Anatomy. "I'm probably going to get an intern. It's probably going to be their first stitch--" I hear my mother talking in the background. "NO I'm not afraid it's going to look bad, I'm afraid they're going to mess up my hand!"
" 'Do you have an Izzie? Don't give me Izzie.' "
(I have no idea if Izzie's a terrible doctor or not. It was just the first Grey's name that came to mind.)
"So anyway, I was calling to see if you could put my clothes in the dryer. Forty minutes on permanent press or whatever."