As I looked up from my desk, a teacher assisted an 8th grade boy through the health office doorway. Edward slumped against the teacher, his arm draped over her shoulder—his other arm held high with a towel wrapped hand. Tears streamed down his face, which was pale, and his black rimmed glasses slid down his nose. He called out, “Nurse Flemr, I think I am going to faint.”
I joined the pair as they made their way into the adjacent room where Edward collapsed upon a bed . . . and did indeed faint! I grabbed an ammonia capsule from a nearby cabinet, broke it near his nose, and he began to revive. The teacher unwrapped his hand, where I saw a large gauge needle protruding from his index finger. She explained that in sewing class Edward got his finger stuck under the machine’s needle. She had removed the needle from the machine, hoping to avoid any further damage to his finger.
Fortunately, the needle was not imbedded deeply, and fell out as I began to examine his finger. Before I could offer reassurance with a good prognosis, Edward (still crying) asked, “Oh, Nurse Flemr, why did I choose such a dangerous activity? . . . I should just stick with Origami.”