I'd been working on the house all day yesterday when I decided to take a 'break' from putting together office furniture and install a new fluorescent light above the sink in the kitchen. It wasn't a really complicated job, but when I finished, I saw that the electrical chord was dangling in an unsightly way under the cabinets. Easy fix, I thought. I'll just take that staple gun I found in the garage and staple the chord to the underside of the cabinet. Mistake #1.

I was careful not to put a staple through the chord--didn't really want any loose electrical current discharging near running water--but when I pressed the end of the gun into the wood and squeezed the trigger, nothing happened. Strange, since the gun appeared to be both loaded and brand, spanking new. I pointed the gun at the floor, and since I didn't have much leverage without pushing its business end into the wall, I squeezed it tightly with both hands. Mistake #2.

No staple shot out, but I felt quite a bit of reverberation in my hands, especially my right hand. Suspiciously lots of reverberation in that hand. I looked down at it. Crap. As it turns out, this particular brand of staple gun SHOOTS OUT THE BACK. Mistake #3.

Upon seeing that the staple was lodged in my palm at the base of my middle finger, pressing my flesh against the bone, my first thought was singularly this: HOW MUCH IS THIS GOING TO COST!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried to pull it out with my fingers, but it didn't budge. Double crap. I turned to needle-nose pliers, but they didn't work either: when I pulled it, it felt as if it was wedged inside a bone. Triple crap.

Unfortunately, Sarah wasn't home, so I had to call her and ask her to come home so she could take me to the hospital. I iced it with a bag of frozen vegetables until we made it to the emergency room about 45 minutes later. When I told the intake nurse that I had a "staple in my finger," it didn't really get me much attention, and she ushered a little girl with a potential owie into the back in front of me. When it was finally my turn and the nurse took a look at my situation, I got A LOT of attention, and she was very apologetic at not having me go first.

The X-ray indicated that the staple missed all the important structures in my hand, but its prongs were completely lodged in the space of the joint between my finger and knuckle. Several people crowded into the room to watch as the doctor tried unsuccessfully to pull it out. He ended up having to inject a VERY large amount of lidocaine (a pain med) into the space around the staple. He was doing it to dull the pain, but I suspect that the fluid lubricated the joint and tissue, allowing the staple to slide out with some more yanking. I felt it scrape the bone as it went by. The doctor lamented that we didn't record the procedure "for YouTube." He said it was probably a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing for him as a doctor. Hopefully it will be a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing for me as a stupid idiot.

So now I'm on antibiotics for the next two weeks, and my finger is super sore and has a limited range of motion due to the swelling, but I think I'll be fine. I definitely don't need the Vicodin they told me to take. I'm saving that particular prescription, though, for the day when the bill comes. I just signed up for my new school's insurance plan last Wednesday, and I suspect it will be a headache getting them to pay--if I can get them to do it at all. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway, 10 days of home ownership, and I already wound up in the ER. It wouldn't be nearly so humbing if I didn't think I was so smart. So you say you're studying for your PhD? And you shot yourself with a staple gun? What's your PhD going to be in: dumb-dumbery?

Apparently, not everyone should do their own home maintenance.