Today at work I was on the moving crew, moving some pianos. We started out our adventure at 8:00 A.M., two hours after the butt-crack off dawn. Our travel plan consisted of trekking across the Salt lake, Provo, and Bountiful valleys. We had 4 stops to make. Our goal was to be back by noon. Our first stop was in Lehi. We picked up a small Yamaha G-2 piano, which was supposed to end up in Bountiful. The move couldn't have gone any smoother. We were in and out in 15 min, and on to the next stop. If there were an Olympic piano moving team, I would so be going to Beijing and win the gold medal.
Me and the crew were ecstatic that we were making such great time as continued our trek south bound to Provo AKA hell. As we entered further into the valley of the shadow of death, our spirits were not broken, our heads were still held high. We thought nothing could be worse than traveling here, but we were so wrong. We stopped at the second move and were forced to do battle with four flights of stairs and small narrow hallways. We flawlessly conquered the tasks at hand. All was going great until we got to the apartment of stop #2. There, the jaws of hell opened up and tried to swallow us whole. The narrow hallway forced us to have to tip the piano up on end in order to get it through the doorway. In doing so, my hand found itself in the most precarious of positions, under the piano. That is where the bang comes in. I did not let hell win, oh no, I pressed on despite the pain and agony. We rushed to the Utah Valley Hospital ER leaving a trail of blood behind.
Today was not the day to die in hell, even though it wanted me too. I sat ever so patiently for an hour and a half, before the doc called my name. She asked me what happened and I proceeded to tell her of the adventures of our morning. She seemed very unamused, as if she were part of hells minions sent to finish me off. She took a hold of my hand and examined it as if it were a piece of meat. She told me I needed stitches. She then grabbed my hand again and incessantly jabbed it with a needle, laughing as she told me it would only sting a little. Then she left me there to wait another half hour until the nurse practitioner came to finish the deed.
With my life dwindling away, I thought, I didn't even get lunch yet, I can't give up now! Just then, the nurse burst through curtain and told me she was there to finish the job. She worked on my finger for another half hour putting my finger back together. Just when I thought I could take no more she relinquished her death grip, and told me I was free to go. I did it! I survived hell and lived to tell the tale. Needless to say the rest of the day was shot with spending almost three hours in the ER. We definitely didn't make our goal of being back by noon. We also never made the four required stops. The first piano never making it, to its final destination. Our dream of being the olympic gold medal team faded away in the distance, as we made our long journey back home.
