I was very brave though and didn't faint. Actually I don't usually faint at the sight of my own cuts bleeding. It's only blood tests or blood donoring or thinking about cutting flesh or listening to someone talking about it that make me faint.
One of my most embarrassing times was when I visited a friend in a high dependency ward in hospital. There wasn't even any blood on show; I blame it on the heat in the ward. And you wouldn't believe the fuss the nurse made: you'd have thought they weren't used to people fainting.
The other really embarrassing and quite shameful incident was when Younger Son was a toddler. He must have been about two and was carrying a full milk bottle in from the front door when he tripped. When I think of it now I wonder what on earth possessed me letting him carry it at all.
As soon as I saw the blood spouting from his hand I picked him up and rushed him in to the neighbour who was a doctor; she took one look and told me to go to hospital A&E. I got him in the car and drove him there, gave all the details in and was waiting to be seen when I could feel myself going woozy. I don't remember if it was to a nurse or a complete stranger that I said, 'Please hold my baby; I think I'm about to faint.'
Another friend who also happened to be a doctor and who was in the hospital that afternoon walked past to see me stretched out on a bed. 'What's happened to you?' she said, and I had to admit the terrible truth. 'Nothing.'
The only thing to my credit in this shameful story is that I did get him to a safe place before my affliction got the better of me.
The first friend later admitted that she'd worried that YS had done some serious damage cutting ... something - ligament, tendon? - but he was fine except for some impressive stitches and a scar. In fact, I was probably more damaged by the incident!