OK, I was creeped out. I am pretty proud to admit that very little creeps me out. But this did. Oh. My. God. I feel like I have been slimed.

So a seemingly otherwise relatively nice college kid who is a cutter comes to the ER because she did poorly on a test, so her solution was to cut a few nasty gashes into her forearm. (Whatever slays your dragon as long as you don't hit something important. Cutting not a particularly good coping mechanism, but it is a coping mechanism. Far be it from me to deprive people of the dangerous crutch that gets them through the day.)

So I'm busy and have the nurses put a topical solution (LET) on it, which if left for an hour usually gives full anesthesia. When I finally get to her, I am not sure how long its been on, so I take a needle and poke her a few times around the cut and ask does she feel it. When the answer is no, I start cleaning and sewing.

Everything goes fine till the end. After I tie the last knot, she looks over at me and says: “I just want you to know that I felt every second of that. But I wanted to feel it.”

Somewhere deep inside I hear a little voice that says “Don't react! That's what she wants.” And I smile and say, 'well happy to have been of service' and walk away.... directly into the med room, where I have the biggest creeptastic freakout. Eeeeeeew!

Just eeeeeeeew.