A WEEK WITHOUT PEN

At 2pm, I heard my name in the next office, after 45mins of waiting. I was the only one in there; an office next to the office for thump printing. The gently smiling lady attended to me, and after 10mins, it was all over. She told me to come after two months for my documents. I rushed out with full speed and head towards the subway.

A total weakness seized me. I was feeling dizzy. “Omg! Tony, what is happening?” One of the lab attendants asked me as she saw blood gushing out from my right hand, precisely from my index and middle fingers respectively. Immediately, she fetched the first aid box, took a large quantity of cotton wool, place them on the two spots and applied pressure on them. Looking at her lab coat, there was a blood stain from the blood dripping from my left hand. Just below my last finger on my left hand was another deep cut. Blood was also gushing out from there too. “How did it happen?” The professor asked me as he approached the scene. I was unable to talk. I was totally weak and with a sudden stomach ache. I was totally angry with myself because, in the previous week, I wasn’t in the lecture because of the same appointment I had in the immigration office. The same would have happened again but I did everything possible to stop it. I was 30mins late for the lecture. A few minutes after my arrival, we all head to the laboratory. All reagents were already in place for the experiment. I brought out the conical flasks, tripod stand, funnel, etc. At first, I had already fixed the rubber head of the pipette, tested it but, it was not functioning properly. I thought, maybe I didn’t fix it well. I removed it and tried to refix it again. It was in the second time when I was trying to put the rubber head that I head a crunching sound of the pipette glass in my hands.

Unable to speak, the lab assistant who was attending to me, pointed to my lab table, indicating to the professor where the accident happened. ” Please, who is free among you? We have to take him to the university polyclinic. There is a deep cut in his index finger that needs to be stitched,” he said to his four assistants. The entire cotton was soaked with blood. It was removed with a new one replaced. A few minutes later, I found myself in the emergency room accompanied by one of the lab assistants. After the intervention, I came back home half dead. ” You have to rest for five days and no more writing during this period,” the doctor said as he discharged me.

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