So today, as I bustled around to get on our way to church, I grabbed my nursery bag full of books, puppets, scissors, glue (the works) and headed for the door. Somehow, the bag wrapped around my right leg, and I felt a sharp stab. Now don't get me wrong, it hurt pretty bad and I probably yelled a pseudo swear, but I thought it was just a right hook by the corner of a book, a typical injury suffered by those like myself who weren't born with much grace. I took a quick look anyway, and as it turns out, a pair of scissors made their way through the bag and into my calf.
So I'm sitting on the toilet, my skirt around my knees, staring at the hole in my leg and say, "Um, Hon...we're gonna be late..." "Um...Hon...this could use a stitch or two..." "Um...Hon..."
And then as quick as you can say BLACK OUT, I had my head between my knees, willing the blood to make its way down south. Then came the extreme urge to spew the contents of my empty stomach (I was fasting), followed shortly by profuse sweating and tunnel vision.
I army crawled out into the front room, simultaneously ripping off my top layer (don't stress - this is a G rated blog, I was wearing a short sleeve still), stopping only when I got to the fan. I sat there in the fetal position for ten minutes, praying it would pass. By the way, the wound wasn't a bleeder, otherwise, this sitch would've been even more complicated. So there I am, silently crying for my mommy, wondering if I might die of a scissor wound. After several shaky minutes, as in my entire body was shaking, I told Jess to get me a Sprite and some bread (fast over), pulled back my hair, picked up my shirt and the first aid kit, and stumbled out to the car.
Not okay.
Several years ago, I biffed it while out for a run and sliced my knee open. When I got my knee stitched I actually sat and watched him shoot me up, wiggle the needles in my knee, then sew it up while my mom crouched in the corner to avoid fainting. It didn't faze me. However, apparently I've inherited this late onset hemophobia from la madre.
My poor kids. I'll be like, "Sorry Timmy. Mommy's going to up chuck. Just hold on to your finger there. Daddy'll be home soon."
So I'm sitting on the toilet, my skirt around my knees, staring at the hole in my leg and say, "Um, Hon...we're gonna be late..." "Um...Hon...this could use a stitch or two..." "Um...Hon..."
And then as quick as you can say BLACK OUT, I had my head between my knees, willing the blood to make its way down south. Then came the extreme urge to spew the contents of my empty stomach (I was fasting), followed shortly by profuse sweating and tunnel vision.
I army crawled out into the front room, simultaneously ripping off my top layer (don't stress - this is a G rated blog, I was wearing a short sleeve still), stopping only when I got to the fan. I sat there in the fetal position for ten minutes, praying it would pass. By the way, the wound wasn't a bleeder, otherwise, this sitch would've been even more complicated. So there I am, silently crying for my mommy, wondering if I might die of a scissor wound. After several shaky minutes, as in my entire body was shaking, I told Jess to get me a Sprite and some bread (fast over), pulled back my hair, picked up my shirt and the first aid kit, and stumbled out to the car.
Not okay.
Several years ago, I biffed it while out for a run and sliced my knee open. When I got my knee stitched I actually sat and watched him shoot me up, wiggle the needles in my knee, then sew it up while my mom crouched in the corner to avoid fainting. It didn't faze me. However, apparently I've inherited this late onset hemophobia from la madre.
My poor kids. I'll be like, "Sorry Timmy. Mommy's going to up chuck. Just hold on to your finger there. Daddy'll be home soon."
3 comments:
I am so sorry that that happened to you. You passed out, really? Good thing you're not a late onset doctor. I just have one little question....was it a sugar free diet sprite? I was just wondering in case you had already started the sugar free thing.
And, I have done crazy diets like that in the past with jeanette anderson and I have decided I go too crazy and end up gaining weight in rebellion.
1. ALMOST passed out - got my head down quick enough. I kept trying to stand up before my head was ready though. And falling down. It was slightly awkward and embarassing.
2. Of course it was Sprite Zero (been drinking it since Asia - I'm hooked).
3. I can only do these crazy diets when EXTREMELY motivated - to not be the fat sister at the family wedding is good motivation. ;)
A ha ha ha ha ha! I'm sorry but I just died laughing. Between your "army crawl" to the front room and your flashback to mom in the corner...oh man. So funny.
P.S. My poor children will have precisely the same problem. I already have a plan. We have some nice old neighbors who are literally ALWAYS home. So, McKay will be sent to the neighbors for any bleeding emergencies.
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