Screams in the Night

It was the kind of blood curdling shriek you can only imagine hearing on the darkest, stormiest night, probably in a graveyard; the kind of panicked scream that signals imminent, life threatening danger; the kind of high-pitched wail that could only conceivably come from a person being attacked by a werewolf or having their brain eaten by a zombie.

Late last night during Ultimate practice, when I heard that kind of howl unexpectedly come from Laura in the TU Delft Sportscenter, I naturally thought, "Where are the zombies? Where's my chainsaw!?" But alas, there was no zombie mangling to be done on this night; instead, what Laura had on hand was a severely dislocated little finger. Laura might not have been scared of any creatures of the night, but the little finger on her left hand definitely looked like it was scared of the rest of her fingers.

With the help of some teammates, we were quickly whisked off to urgent care to give Dutch health care and our Dutch insurance a test drive. After Laura got her little finger straightened out (I mean that literally, of course) and had it x-rayed, we learned from the doctor that she actually had some bone chipping in the finger. This means she got the "VIP upgrade" from a splint to a cast, which she'll have for at least a week (but possibly more).

Meanwhile, Laura wasn't the only one to injure herself last night. We were at the hospital from midnight to around 2:00, during which time Laura was one of an astounding four people to get plastered. That's four people, in the middle of the night, in a pretty small town, in a hospital that was mostly empty otherwise. "Go hard or go home" is taken seriously here.

With her bright new cast finally complete just after 2:00, Laura and I were ready to set off for home. Of course, we had no idea which direction home was because we had no idea where in town the hospital was - this is what happens when you trade four wheels for two. We sheepishly asked a nurse to pinpoint our location on Google maps and we set off on the (thankfully) short hike home.

No zombies to fight on the walk home, either. (Maybe next time.)