disdain

I got home from work this evening and promptly sliced my finger open with a can of cat food. The lid wouldn't come off, I yanked. Something (can, lid?) tore through flesh, straight to the bone, thank god for the bone. I mighta lost the tip of my pinkie finger, and I NEED that finger. Need it for... O.K., maybe I don't exactly need it, but I'm fond of it and I'd sure like to keep it around. There is a lot of bleeding happening right now, but I've got approximately three bandages, I'll make it through the night. A house mate thinks I need stitches. I think stitches are for pussies and assholes. (...but I'd totally go get 'em if i had insurance. a needle and thread work just as well, right?)