Last week, your faithful Meaford Haven blogger was chopping some logs from an old cherry tree we had to take down (soon to be replaced!), when he foolishly attempted to finish a split by holding the maul up near the head and dropping it into the split log. Without gloves.
At first the cut looked minor, and the short, sharp pain wasn’t anything worse than an ordinary DIY mishap. But the pressure of dropping one’s knuckle onto a sharp piece of unrelenting cherry can do a pretty good number on you. I had a deep slice around the bottom of the middle knuckle on my right forefinger.
Being a guy, I tried to manfully deal with it with a Band-Aid or three, but I was having a little trouble getting them on. And the knuckle was getting a little worse to look at. So I called my wife for some assistance. Being not a guy, she immediately said, “We’re going to the hospital.” And so we did.
Here’s why I’m telling you this. Living in Meaford, you tend to take for granted many of the great things we have here… unimaginably beautiful views of Georgian Bay, the rugged Escarpment and rolling hills graced with apple orchards… a wide choice of outdoor recreation all year round… great culture, shopping, entertainment and dining nearby…
And healthcare. With a full-fledged health centre just 20 minutes away in Owen Sound, we’re also fortunate to have our own Meaford hospital right here in town. According to the Grey Bruce Health Services website, “Of all of GBHS’s rural hospitals, Meaford offers the widest range of specialty clinics and services to its community. Specialists from Owen Sound and other larger centres travel to Meaford to offer general surgery, orthopedics, dermatology, plastics and mental health services… The Meaford area has the highest percentage of seniors in Grey and Bruce. The 20-inpatient beds provide access to hospitalization when those seniors and other residents need them.” The site also notes that the hospital has the space and infrastructure to grow.
All of this might be a small part of why Meaford is becoming one of Ontario’s retirement destinations.
Within half an hour of my woodchopping woes, I’d been admitted into Meaford Hospital’s emergency ward and seen by a doctor and nurse. Another half hour later, I was stitched up (six of them!), splinted and heading back home (with a stop at Muxlow’s, Meaford’s pharmacy, for antibiotics). It hardly put a dent in my evening. (Well, I’d sooner not have had to deal with it, but all things considered…)
