Today was quite an adventure.
We were making a salmon dinner, and had divided the different tasks among us.  Tukun is actually a chef, and can cook pretty well. He was busy chopping away at his vegetables, when I jokingly quipped “Don’t cut your finger now.”
Not even two seconds later, he damn near chops his fingertip off. 
Blood? Everywhere.
Panic? Modest.
Cursing? Plentiful.
At first we joked about it, the irony of him cutting himself right after I told him not to, ha-ha.
But then we saw how much blood there really was, and then of course the little piece of Tukun’s flesh lying on the kitchen counter.
I ran to get my first-aid kit from my room and tried to figure out how to use the vast array of bandages and linens.
I was still able to wrap up his gushing finger pretty well, while I called “000″, which is the emergency number for Australia.
Within a few minutes the ambulance arrived, and sent us to the hospital where they patched him up.
The image above depicts Tukun in the ambulance with the friendly paramedic.
I was with him the whole time, in the ambulance and at the hospital. He took it pretty well, even with all the blood and perpetual digital regurgitation and oozing.

‘Twas a blessed day indeed.