Alysia Wood Worst Suicide Attempt Ever

Worst Suicide Attempt Ever

Posted in News on Sunday, March 22nd, 2009 at 2:48 pm No Comments

I’ll spare you the most graphic, disgusting photos on this one.

This is Eddie Pence.  He helped me through a pretty rough 16 hours in March of 2009.  We were supposed to be editing a video project.  Instead, I spliced my hand open while (I’m well aware that this was a moron move) trying to pry two frozen chicken breasts apart with a knife.

I'm an idiot. High Five!

Wrapping # 1 – 7:45 PM  – I held my hand under cold water, like my parents taught me to do when I was 5, and called my Dad the Doctor.  He tricked me into calling 911 under the guise of finding the nearest county hospital for cheap treatment.  I argued with the fire department that I could drive myself to the hospital (I was out of my mind) until they said, “You may as well tell us which apartment you are in because we are around the corner.”   I went downstairs where two of the most attractive EMTs ever relentlessly made fun of me while treating the wound.  I called Eddie, who was there within minutes and drove me to County.  When you spent more than half a day trying to get treatment, it seems fitting that the famous Mission Road morgue is right across the street.  Keep in mind that this was angelic for the Pence family, who was currently, like, 7.5 months pregnant.

LAC-USC Hospital A.K.A. "County"

8:45 PM  We arrive and I get triage but not treatment.  I get sent to Information window #5.

Except somehow I went to the wrong Information Window #5.  The nurse actually said, “No, not THAT Information Window #5. The other one.”   I said, “OH. I can’t believe I confused the two.”

Wrapping #3 – 1:00 AM?

3:00 AM – Trying not to laugh at a drunk woman.  Notice the grand central station style reader board reflecting? That’s so you know when it’s your turn – and to save you the hassle of looking – it’s not.  At some point, I start bleeding through the bandages and demand the look at it again.  The rewrap it and send me back to the lobby.

When was your last menstrual cycle?

8:00-9:00 AM – Getting treatment 13 hours after I cut myself, 12 hours after I got to the ER.   If you have to bring a comedian to the emergency room, try to bring one of the same gender (and doesn’t have a 7.5 month pregnant wife at home).  It prevents moments like this:

Doc: “How much do you weigh?”
Alysia: “I don’t know. 130? More? Less?”
Doc: “I don’t care. They make me ask. When was your last menstrual cycle?”
Eddie Pence: “SAY CHEESE!!”

Mortifying.

Give me your tired, hungry, huddled masses that waited for treatment for 14 hours (or, Doctor’s orders: “Don’t move.”)
10:30 AM – released from the emergency room with a wrapping, stitches and thumb sized jock cup.  Eddie drops me off at home, where my roommates were somewhat perplexed.  I’d left my purse, wallet, keys, ID – everything – in a very bloody apartment (on the walls, ceiling, floor, etc.).  They were concerned but never felt the need to find out if I was okay… However, they did want the blood cleaned up at my earliest convenience. (That’s LA for you – never mind the blood, people got shit shit to do!)
24 hours later – I know!  it doesn’t look bad at all but you wouldn’t believe how bad it bleeds when you cut 2 of 4 arteries and cut down to the joint.   Luckily, I could feel most of my thumb.

Why I Didn't Go To Nursing School
My attempt at wrapping.  I give myself a D+.

Follow up wrapping by the pros.  This time, it only took 3 hours to be seen!

Worst.  Suicide.  Attempt.  Ever.

I still haven’t paid a single dollar of the $1,500 bill.

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