Since you have never met me in person, you have no idea how much I suck at being a human being. If I had it my way, I would be an alien or mermaid to be honest. Sadly it wasn’t in my cards, I will be settling with being a human for my remaining time on this earth. So turns out my human self was born with two left feet, with this I have an insane ability to constantly injure myself. I don’t really have two left feet, I have normal feet, a right foot and left foot, that think like two left. Growing up and always injuring myself, I have developed this insanely high pain tolerance. This trait has come in handy more times than not.
One day, while anchored in Exuma (islands in the Bahamas), I was assisting with lunch service. The boat I was working on had three sun decks and was 150 feet, meaning its huge, for all you non-yachties. With about 15 guests at the time, every meal service was insane. I constantly felt like a chicken with its head cut off while running plates, food and drinks out to the guests.
Trying to get everything cleared as quickly as possible in hopes of getting a break I was hustling. The door out to the sun deck, where the guests were eating and the inside sky-lounge was an automatic slider. The door honestly sucked. I was constantly being crushed between the two sliding doors. It was my fault, I would try running by just as they were beginning to close. Every single time I made it until, this day.
This day, while carrying a hot heavy plate I made a run for it. Turns out I wasn’t quick enough, the metal door caught my right elbow. Yes I felt the door hit me but, it honestly felt like just a graze. It wasn’t until all the kids started screaming blood, that I looked down. By the time I made it to the sink, my elbow down to my wrist was completely soaked with blood. On closer examination I noticed chunk of my skin hanging off my arm in the shape of a fish-hook. Sorry if you all are squeamish. I do have pictures! Don’t worry don’t want to make anyone sick so I won’t be posting them.
News on a yacht travels quicker than lightning. My chief stew came towards me running with a towel faster than a helicopter mom could have. She HATES blood, this was solely because if a drop of blood hit the floor, our lives would be over as we know it. Crew cannot have a napkin out-of-place EVER. The guest on the other hand, they can light the boat on fire if they wanted and it would be perfectly acceptable. Weird I know.
This was the boat you have previously read about that was cursed and horrible. The first aid-kits had absolutely no supplies. I didn’t even have a band-aid to put on my arm let alone something to clean it with. I was up the creek without a paddle.
After wrapping my arm in a make shift bandage I went to bed after a long day. This cut was so deep I knew immediately, stitches and a tetanus shot were needed. Sadly, anchored the middle of this remote area that wasn’t going to be easy.
The following morning, my cabin looked like a human had been murdered. It bleed so much it ruined all my sheets and cloths. There was blood everywhere which made me nervous. Going up to the Captain I made him arrange to see a medic for treatment.
That’s when the first mate we called Superman, and the deck hand took me to Staniel Cay. On this part of the island their was a medic and also a chemist (pharmacy).
Okay so I come from Boston, this is the land of some of the best hospitals in the world. What I experienced scared me down to my toes. I actually refused to get stitches in fear of leaving with a disease. The medic was a hut two feet from the beach. The waiting room a wicker chair on the side of it. I was sitting next to the families underwear that was hanging out to dry and a trash can. When we went inside, there was no lights, and nothing that looked sterile.
I opted not to get treatment and instead went to the chemist. The chemist turned out to be a room in someone’s house with shelves in it. The medical supply section contained two things, band aids and hydrogen peroxide. That’s it. I took every single one on the shelf and filled my backpack.
Never being there in my life I expected a small city, a little quaint downtown and to maybe see some cars driving around. That’s not what it was like at all. Four wheelers and dirt bikes were the mode of transportation. The roads were dirt, one bar was on the island, and there was not one paved road only dirt.
Don’t get me wrong, if I wasn’t injured and actually needed help this would have been my oasis. In my case I was a little shell-shocked.
The cut on my arm eventually healed, it was a slow process because of how deep it was but it healed. It’s now a two-inch long fish-hook. Having many scars from my, two left feet syndrome, I’m used to them. This is one of my special ones though, it comes with a killer story.
Take a lesson from this experience, pack your own first aid kit and don’t relay on others. Get some steri-strips, cleaner, and bandages. You honestly never know what can happen while adventuring the world! Be safe in your travels!