I make my way to the bathroom and the next thing I know a cleaning lady joins me. The bleeding won’t stop and she asks ‘doctor?’ I reply ‘si.’
The extent of my first aid knowledge in Spanish is quite limited. Dolor de mi cabeza (I have a headache) isn’t my primary concern and I can’t describe what the problem is. Though it’s pretty clear what it is so maybe I don’t need to translate.
The next person to come through the ladies room door is a manager. He introduces himself in English and while I am not confident of his medical training, I’m happy I have a translator. He informs me that a doctor has been called and will arrive shortly. He told me to take a seat in the restaurant and he would alert me when the doctor arrives.
I head back to sit with Marisa to figure out what’s going to happen. The bleeding had subsided a bit, but my arm was wrapped in gauze and now my primary concern was glass in my arm. I would be heading to Chile on a 10 hours plus bus ride in the morning and healthy was the only way I wanted to enter a new country.
Marisa and I wait and wait and I apologize profusely for being such an idiot. Our waiter returns and lets us know that if we accept, he would like to give us tapas and wine on him. What are we to do but accept his offer? Seems like that’s the dinner we were both looking for anyway, minus the injury.
If I thought I was a hot mess upon arriving at the hotel, I didn’t know what hot mess was. I was still bleeding, some older blood was drying and it was just disgusting. Marisa was such a good sport and she was really a calming presence.
After what seemed like an eternity, the manager came over to our table to notify me that the doctor had arrived. He then escorted me to the ladies room. And, thankfully, he stayed.
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