Tag Archives: blood

Dear Diary, It Gets Better…+

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So, I woke up with my bloody finger all bloody and painful and bloody. Making things difficult is something I enjoy, so, I went to my non-functioning bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and went down to the kitchen sink to brush my teeth and wash my face. Something about brushing my teeth at the kitchen sink makes me feel pukey. Anyway, took the kids to school and by the time I got back the plumbers were here. Ripping out my bathroom floor. Yup. The toilet was in the hallway and the vanity was in the middle of the floor, the only part that was left. Yeah….

So, the plumbers said “Well, this floor is tongue and groove and probably about 100 years old… so…” I said “Not a problem! I saw a cool penny floor on Pintrest I have been really wanting to try… so…” And then I accidentally slammed my bloody chunkless finger in the door and screamed SON OF A NUTCRACKER, kicked the toilet and went into my room where the dog promptly peed on the carpet. Good Morning!

I decided that I had to pee too. But, instead of peeing on my carpet, I drove four houses down to my friend’s house and used their john. From there I went to the doctors. As I was describing to the nurse what happened to my finger, she scrunched up her face and said “I’m NOT touching that!” And went to get another nurse who was older and had obviously been through the Mandolin Wars. She pulled off the bloody wrapping. Ow. Then she tried to pick the Styrofoam stuff the other doctor had smushed into the gapping wound. That was NOT at ALL enjoyable. Not even a little bit. It wasn’t coming off so she made me soak it. Then she picked at it some more. I was sweating and swearing. She couldn’t get it so she re-wrapped it and sent me home. To my bathroomless house.

The kids came home and I had to explain to them that we no longer have a bathroom. No tub, no toilet, no sink. Luckily, we DO have awesome neighbors. So, we got to shower at their house. But first, I used up half a roll of Press and Seal wrapping my finger and taping it down with duct tape. I should have thought that out better. The duct tape sort of stuck to my hair as I was shampooing…so, now I have a bald spot. Put that on the list.

Someone asked me if I was cursed. Maybe…I knew an old lady who thought she was a witch…maybe she put a spell on me. Doesn’t matter to me if she did or didn’t. What goes around comes around…so if she turns up bald with a bloody finger and no bathroom or computer and a hijacked checking account we will know it was her and she will be pretty pissed (because no one besides me could handle this level of nonsense) Besides, this is some really outrageously funny crap if you ask me. Every morning I wake up sort of excited to see what is going to happen today. And it all makes me laugh. When you have lived through real tragic shit, these daily petty irritations just seem like small distracting entertainments. Not the end of the world. A little painful, costing me a small fortune but such is life. It’s not over till it’s over.

Things I have learned so far : 1) if you take a shower using only your left hand it feels like someone else is giving you a shower. 2) rocks will break a garbage disposal so never transplant plants in the kitchen sink 3) tupperware can be used for more than just leftovers

this is my Bloody Finger. As you can see he is none to please about being bloody.

this is my Bloody Finger. As you can see he is none to please about being bloody.

Fact: as soon as a toilet is unusable you will have to pee worse than you have ever had to pee before

Fact: as soon as a toilet is unusable you will have to pee worse than you have ever had to pee before

This is my finger all cleaned up and ready for the shower. Press and Seal and some snazzy duct tape...Obamacare at it's finest...

This is my finger all cleaned up and ready for the shower. Press and Seal and some snazzy duct tape…Obamacare at it’s finest…

Dear Diary, My Friends Are Jealous

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No, seriously, they are. Which I think is stupid but hey…I guess since they know all of the intimate details of my life they must feel like they are lacking or something. Anyway, let me tell you about my week…so I can make the rest of you feel jealous…Started out with my desk top dying. I know I know, first world probs…whatev. Put it in context. The context is I LIVE IN A FIRST WORLD COUNTRY. Believe me, if I was in West Africa this whole blog would be about Ebola, if I was in the Middle East it would be all about war and if I was in Scotland, it would be about how stupid my countrymen are. But I live here so…

Follow up the desk top dying with the bathroom sink deciding that it wanted new pipes. It didn’t consult with me before it made this decision, just went ahead and started leaking. So, the plumber came and cut away part of my kitchen ceiling, told me there was some sort of nest near the pipes and he would be back next week. Let’s keep track…that’s a dead computer, a leaking bathroom sink necessitating removal of the kitchen ceiling and discovery of a nest that has now been disturbed and is directly above the hole. So far so good. Jealous yet? Oh, did I mention that my debit card number was stolen and my checking account cleaned out? Yes well, what can I say? I’m just luckier than you..

I had a few days respite. Mainly because I had no money. I just sat in my kitchen, below the hole, with a shotgun awaitin fer that dern animal to show it’s furry little face. Ok, I’m exaggerating. I didn’t have a shot gun. I had a tennis racket. And iffen that animal pokes it’s head outta that there hole I’ma whoop it square inatween it’s eyes and cook it fer dinner. That part I am serious about. We’re hungry.

Next up, I decided to make dinner. I decided on potatoes. I took out my mandolin and played the theme from Deliverance. Just kidding. A mandolin is a kitchen aid that slices stuff with a wicked sharp blade. It is tilted at an angle and you slide whatever it is you need sliced back and forth and it makes uniform slices. It comes with this handy little tool that stabs the vegetable so that your hands stay safe and far away from the very sharp blade. But I rarely use the handy little tool. Because, duh. So, I was sliding the potato and it was slicing nicely and then….the potato slipped.

And I sliced off a chunk of my middle finger. Now, I have done things like this before so I walked over to the sink to run my finger under water and I saw bone. Yup. You’re turning green with jealousy now aren’t you? So, I scream for my kid who takes her time because she think I am yelling for her because the dog pooped or something and she is going to have to clean it up. Now there I stand with a good chunk of my finger missing, blood everywhere and the kid just meandering down the stairs la tee da….I scream ” GET THE DOG WE HAVE TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM NOW!” I swear I have never seen a teenager move so fast. She chased the dog into his crate and came running back. I was already in the car. As she came out the door it occurred to me that I might need the missing chunk which was laying somewhere in the pile of potato slices.

I yelled for my kid to find the chunk of finger in case it needed to be reattached and grab a Coke out of the fridge as I hadn’t eaten all day and I was feeling a little woosey and the ER is about 25 minutes away. She didn’t even question it. Just turned around, found my finger chunk, grabbed a Coke and ran to the car. What followed was 25 minutes of me driving, singing, swearing and laughing at the absurdity of it all. My kid sat in the passenger seat, supporting my arm so my finger stayed above my head and watching me for any signs that I might be passing out from loss of blood.

We got to the ER and waited. It wasn’t crowded. Just 2 people ahead of me. The triage nurse asked me all of the usual questions and then didn’t believe me when I said I have never had a surgery. No idea why she didn’t believe me but she sat there stunned and then said “Are you sure?” Um…yeah…pretty sure I would remember having a surgery or at least someone would have told me or I would have had a scar or…wait….maybe I HAVE had a surgery…maybe this nurse who I have never met before in my life is right…I mean, she IS a nurse and I am just some lady with a chopped off finger chunk, a dead computer, a leaking bathroom and some sort of critter living in my ceiling hole. What do I know? Maybe she was just jealous.They finally took me back to the exam room and the nurse said something no one wants to hear when going into an ER ” It’s a little messy in here”. The Doctor came in. He was very funny. He looked at the finger chunk my kid had so thoughtfully brought along and held the whole time because it grossed me out to even think about it. He said we could make a necklace out of it if we wanted but it wasn’t going back where it came from. He ripped off the paper towel and made my kid look at my wound as he said ” YOU should have been slicing the potatoes!” Then he bandaged me up while I sat there making ugly faces and singing “This is the grossest thing that has ever happened to me and I am so grossed out cause this is gross gross me out the door grossey gross gross…” It was a pretty good song.

The Doctor asked me all the usual questions : chest pain? no. throat pain? no. diabetus? no. allergies? no. surgery? no. And he paused…surgery? no. None? no. Ever? no…What the heck? Maybe I need surgery for something? I mean, now that you mention it, my gallbladder has been feeling sort of off now and then…will that make my finger stop hurting? Medical professionals are weird.

He left. We sat there waiting for the nurse to come back to see if I had changed my mind about having had surgery in the past. I stuck by my original answer of no, no surgeries and they let me go. I left my finger chunk on the tray in case they needed it for someone else. I’m generous like that.

So, my darling friends, if you weren’t jealous of my fabulous life before I know you are now. Also, I typed this whole post with just my left hand. It took HOURS. All so you can envy me. You want to be me. And here are some pictures for you to drool over…

In the waiting room...holding the finger chunk in what shall hence forth be referred to as my Good Hand

In the waiting room…holding the finger chunk in what shall hence forth be referred to as my Good Hand

The Finger Chunk

The Finger Chunk

Lookit ma finger!!!!

Lookit ma finger!!!!

No for real, this face makes my finger feel better

No for real, this face makes my finger feel better

This is my

This is my “does this bandage make my finger look fat” face…

Ask me if I have had surgery in the past again...go ahead...ASK ME.

Ask me if I have had surgery in the past again…go ahead…ASK ME.