So Much Blood!
Today was day four of my ongoing assignment as a 6th grade Language Arts teacher in Mahomet. The festivities today involved watching the first part of the movie Hachi, one of at least two Japanese-inspired remakes that Richard Gere has done. (The other that I know of being his take on Shall We Dance?). And of course, being the closet sadist that I am, I stopped the film right at the climax of the story, leaving all of my classes hanging until tomorrow when we watch the conclusion.
Oh, and for those of you nay-sayers who are wondering about the educational value of spending two days watching a movie, I will point out that a) it is the last few days before Spring Break, b) the 3rd quarter just ended so it is silly to start something new and then wait a week to carry on and c) we are going to be doing a class discussion of the differences and similarities between the book Hachiko Waits and the film that was inspired by it.
Anyway, during my second class period, a quiet young man approached me at the beginning of class and said, “Um, Mr. V, can I have a band-aid?” I looked at him and asked why (since many students claim to need them for non-important reasons, such as a piece of cracked skin near the base of the fingernail). He was like, “Well, I’m kind of bleeding. Look!”
He showed me the backside of his hand, which was covered in blood. It turned out he had picked off a fairly large scab and started bleeding. A lot. I quickly pulled out my first-aid kit that is always in my bag, gave him an antiseptic wipe, and prepared a bandage with antibiotic ointment. These are all things that I have carried since I was in high school, when my friends were the ones regularly cutting themselves and bleeding on stuff. Then I kept carrying them because of my unfortunate habit of bumping into things and bleeding.
As I administered first-aid, someone asked, “Hey, are you a Boy Scout?” to which I responded, “Yep! An Eagle Scout, actually!” Everyone thought that was pretty cool. Or at least they claimed they did.
Having bandaged up the young man, we started the movie. About fifteen minutes in, I noticed him playing with a small beige-ish coloured object in his hand. His band-aid.
So much for needing a band-aid, I guess. At least the bleeding had stopped.