Stitching Together a Podium Finish

Last weekend was our SHAFL grand final.  SHAFL is the Shanghai Tigers broken up into teams competing against each other.  The Crows had already secured a spot in the SHAFL final, but we (the Dockers) and the Eagles had to play it out to see who would take them on for the SHAFL trophy.  We played a solid first half in a tightly contested game managing to take a 7 point lead into the break.  Unfortunately I can't tell you much about the second half other than we came up 2 points short in the final tally.  The Eagles when on to beat the Crows in the final, and we netted ourselves a third place finish.  That gets you on the podium ... even if there are only three teams.

So shortly into the second half, I wrapped up an Eagle around the waist for a pretty textbook tackle if I do say so myself.  Getting up from the tackle, I noticed a non-clear liquid flowing from my head.  I didn't feel a thing through the tackle, but when I put my hand to my head above my eye, there was a noticeable gash and a lot of blood.  With my sub not able to hear me, and the ball coming back into the defensive end, I tried to play on until a teammate caught a glimpse and said "ahhhh, you gotta get off the field!".

Turns out I had a very short, but quite deep gash in my forehead.  With Laura still tossing a few bubbles back at a nearby bar, a friend helped clean, bandage, and then wrap my head in gauze and tape rugby style to keep pressure on it.  Unsure myself if Laura was in fact at the bar, or had been dropped off in Qingpu by the cab driver, I gave her a call and she answered with "Are you in the hospital?".  The only other time somebody had called her while I was participating in a sporting event, she ended up meeting me in the emergency room prior to surgery to screw together my broken leg and ankle.  I hesitated prompting a "What happened?" in a tone that cut deeper than the wound in my head.  (definitely getting the look from her when she reads that line)

We ended up going to an expat hospital and it's probably a good thing we did.  The doctor didn't hesitate in his evaluation, I got stitches in my head.  In China.  The Chinese doctor said "Leave bandage off at night in two days, always leave on during the day.  We're in China."

I have a reputation for not always maintaining a colorful complexion, or state of consciousness when needles and knives are involved in the puncturing of my flesh.  If I don't know what happens, no worries.  But there's something about combining the grotesque visuals generated in my warped mind when I lay eyes on the implements of skin penetration and the nervous energy generated by knowing what's coming that has occasionally left me in a state where I wake up with people looking down on me while holding my legs in the air.  I have taken my fair share of ribbing over this.  So it is with some pleasure, once I knew she was fine of course, that I relay to you what occurred approximately ten seconds after the doctor finished my stitches.  I sat up from the table to see Laura white as a ghost, perspiring like crazy, and putting her head down between her legs.  The doctor immediately order us to "switch! switch! switch!".  I quickly worked to assess my ability to stand after having a needle repeatedly shoved in and out of my head and we successfully made the switch.  It was a good thing, I'm pretty sure she was going down.

Everybody thought the wrap was way cooler looking
 than the little band-aid I ended up with after stitches.