I was reminded of the term "degloving"today; a term I haven't heard or even thought about in years. *If you don't know what degloving is, don't Google it. DON'T! It's disgusting and horrific, and there are images that will appear on your screen that you just can't un-see. I'll verbally explain "degloving" in due time.
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| This is kind of a hint, but hold tight... |
I was a freshman at
Ricks College. My professor was a man we'll call "Jim." And the "advanced" part of this particular first aid class was that we not only learned what to do in emergency situations; we learned about injuries in-depth: when and how they happen, what they look like, etc., etc.
Jim, I think, loved teaching this class. And he liked to play a game I called "Name That Injury." I'm pretty sure you get the gist of the game by the title I gave it, yes?
On the few occasions that we played Name That Injury, Jim would turn on the overhead projector, shut off the lights, and rub his hands together in fiendish delight. (That last part is probably inaccurate, but I swear that's how I see it in my head all these years later.)
I've never had a strong stomach. Not ever. And the very thought of having to look at pictures of heinous injuries made me nervous and queasy. In fact, I
still get a bit light headed as I flash back to images I had to see in that class.
But I digress...
Before each image would flash onscreen, I'd look down and take special interest in my hands or my pen, maybe rest my head on my desk. I'd wait for the inevitable gasp from my fellow students, and I'd try to gauge exactly how bad the injury was based on their reactions.
"What do you think happened here?" Jim would say in a voice I deemed much too chipper for such an occasion, as he called on students at random.
I'd brace myself, take a deep breath, and find the courage to look up at the image presented.
"A motorcycle accident?" one student would guess.
"Oh, I can see why you might think that! But, no. This was a bear attack." The person pictured was missing half of his (or her?) face, down to the skull.
Image: someone's calf, cut at a steep angle, to the bone. "What happened here?"
"Umm...a sword?" another student would wager.
"Nope. Badger attack." (Can badgers really do that? Am I remembering this wrong? It was an awful game for me to take part in, and I might not remember all the facts. But this was traumatic enough that these memories feel solid and accurate, and I swear he said "badger attack.")
Image: horribly mangled hand.
"Blender?" This was my guess.
"Ooo, close! Garbage disposal!" Jim exclaimed. (Do you feel bad for me? That he called my name on such a particularly disgusting picture?)
More images. More wild guesses. Sometimes we guessed right, sometimes not.
Always, I would look down before the next picture flashed across the screen,
always a collective gasp,
always searching my soul for courage to look up just in case he called on me again...
Are you ready to hear about degloving?
Brace yourself.
Think of removing a glove from you hand. But the glove is your skin, severing the blood supply and all that garbage. It doesn't have to be your h
and to be considered degloving; it might be a finger or a limb. That image in your mind is hideous enough without graphic representation, I assure you. (Don't Google it!)
Anyway...despite being grossed out by downright appalling pictures of profound injuries, I really did like the class overall, and it's difficult to explain why...
The way Jim talked about animal attacks and motorcycle accidents and everything in between was enough to make you paranoid, make you want to avoid nature at all costs. He outright refused to wear rings because of an increased chance of being degloved. But
man, he was passionate about that class. And as I recall, he was an avid outdoorsman; he educated himself and was smart about his outdoor adventures, he lived his life (ring-free), and encouraged us to do the same.
