Oh Sh-T! (Day Four)

One swift stroke of misfortune and one awkward stroke of the machete has sealed my fate of inactivity indifinitely. The blow glanced off the log I was notching and sliced clean into my coveted rubber boot. My first reaction was tremedous disappointment at the maiming of my boot, thinking that the comprimising of its waterproofness was going to make my life in the jungle hell. My next thought, admittedly delayed, was ¨hmm, that cut is right where my toe should be.¨ After quickly pulling off the boot I discovered a bloody rag of a sock and then eventually a stitchs deep wound showing some tendions in my big left toe. Otobo jumped in quick to put pressure on the cut and to tell Conan to boil water while I was contemplating how bad of a situation I was in should this become infected in the middle of nowhere. Talk about being in a bad place for something like this to happen. We had just found out the other day that the radio that was supposed to be here to radio in a plane in case of an emergency was not functioning...and would not ever be.
We immediately cleaned the wound and bandaged it up. As I could not walk without opening the wound I was forced to sit under our house structure and spend the rest of the day pondering my predicament. I was trying to mentally regurgitate all I had read in Tom´s 1979 Red Cross First Aid manual that I had read while at the lodge. Although, I was not too confident in this book as it recommended blood-letting for most of the ailments and cauterizing for cuts. I am just going to try my best and not have this thing get infected or accept the fact that my nickname may change to Four Toe Brian.
Anxious to peel the bandages off tomorrow to assess the damage.

Scars are souvenirs you never lose,
Brian