Pages

Thursday, June 19, 2014

I'm the baby, you gotta love me

My lovely siblings have been taking great care of me since I haven't really been able to walk the last few days. Well, I can walk but it's super painful and if I walk a lot I start to leave a blood trail. It's just not a good idea.

For the most part the food has been edible. There was an incident with easy mac and cheese that didn't go over so well. It had sat in the microwave for too long and lost all the water. I was mostly passed out on the couch when my brother mixed it up. He asked if it needed water and I said no. I'd forgotten that water evaporates. Everything ended okay because my mother made me Gold Fish mac and cheese. It was cute and delicious.

Fishies (Photo)

Thankfully my older sister made me a salad so I have eaten something healthy in the last few days. Pretty sure it's the only healthy thing I've eaten.

I did get some interesting, but yummy french toast for  breakfast. My brother made it. I was not entirely sure it was going to end well. I kept hearing questionable noises coming from the kitchen. The most disturbing was when he asked if it was supposed to look like that. Since I was lounging (in a rather foul temper) on the couch and couldn't actually see the kitchen I had no way of answering. It's been really odd to have him cook for me since if it's just the two of us at home I do the cooking.

It looked a lot like this, but flatter (Photo)

The best thing was when I asked my brother to get me a cup of coffee. I have a French press. He took the lid off and freaked out when he saw the coffee grounds. He didn't realize the plunger thing needed to be pressed down. In his defense he avoids all coffee and necessary equipment for making coffee. I got to talk him through the actions for a French press. Mostly that you have to push the plunger down slowly. He also took the lid of the creamer instead of popping the top up. Just unscrewed the whole thing.

This is real hard to use.

But mostly I've just eaten a lot a macaroni and cheese. It's my go to comfort food when I feel bad or am stressed.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

I tried to decapitate my toe

Yesterday afternoon we were getting ready for a picnic when I cut open the bottom of my toe/foot area. It was highly unpleasant. And kind of embarrassing. My mom asked me to grab something from the pantry (our pantry is like 10 feet tall). It was barely out of my reach. Instead of taking the minute or so of time to move stuff around and set up the step ladder I decided to be time efficient and just jump up and grab it.

In retrospect it does seem like a dumb decision. However, I have lived in this house for over a year and jumped up to grab items on numerous occasions. At the time it seemed a reasonable action to take.

I landed on something and it hurt. It felt like a paper cut, a sharp stabbing pain. I looked down, this was possibly another mistake. Blood had gushed out of my foot all over the floor. There was a small puddle of blood on the pantry floor that was getting bigger while I put pressure on my foot. I turned my foot over and could see into my toe. A flap of skin had popped open, it looked like someone had tried to peel all the skin off. I freaked out.

My family members all rushed to the kitchen to see what they could do to help. After looking at the wound they decided it needed stitches. They bandaged up the toe in an attempt to stop the bleeding and took my to InstaCare.

Unfortunately the place was located in an intersection that is under construction. Traffic was at a standstill and we took the side roads, which ended up being blocked off and we did a circle around the building before getting to the lot. My father was driving and was not happy with the traffic. I was sitting in the middle of the back seat with my foot propped up on the passenger side seat. I did what most people do. I texted my best friends a picture of my bandaged foot. Responding to their messages kept me from freaking out about getting stitches. I have never had stitches before. 

The clinic was basically empty. I am assuming it's because of the horrible traffic. I got in to see a doctor in what is probably record time. I am almost positive you can't really read my handwriting on the information form. I probably should have had my father fill it out, but it's a little late for that.

The nurse was very nice. I remember she had on these light blue cowboy boots and black scrubs. She also had a really nice voice when she said my heart rate was elevated. Had I not been in so much pain it would have been funny in a I wan to punch you sort of way.

Had that nurse been the doctor things would have gone better. He came in and it all went down hill from there. He was an older, heavy man with a slow, wanna be Texas drawl. (I say want to be because it's Wyoming and most people from Wyoming who try and effect a Texas drawl don't do it right.) After looking at my foot he declared it a superficial lesion slapped two bandages on it and sent me home.

It was slightly more involved than that but the whole visit couldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes. I have a gouge out of the bottom of my toe and slice out of the side. The side cut almost looks like my skin just burst open. It's disturbing to look at. What's slightly more disturbing is that the bottom gouge connects to the side slice so that half of my toe skin can flap up.

I spent most of the examination gritting my teeth and trying not to bitch every time his pudgy fingers poked the open wound. For some reason the doctor did not realize, or possibly care, that it was really only one cut. He kept saying it didn't need stitches. Now it is possible there was nothing to keep the stitches in and they would only cause more problems but that isn't what he said. The doctor also told me I would be able to walk on it with out any problems. He only told me that after I asked. He also said I could take ibuprofen or Tylenol but didn't say how often or how much. Which I found highly irritating because I try to never take pain medicine if I could to something else to alleviate the pain, like drinking more water or eating something different.

By the time I got home I had already bled through the bandages the doctor had put on. I was so tempted to call them back and bitch at him. He had specified, the only thing he'd actually told me to do, that I needed to change the bandages once a day for the next ten days or so. When I'd asked if I would need to do more than that he'd said in a very snooty voice, "Once a day will be fine."

Subtext "I am the doctor, this is not a real problem."

You know when you can just hear what someone is saying?
That's what happened then. The doctor had decided I was a young woman who came in because of a little cut. Problem solved.

Even the nurse asked if he should look at it from another angle. If you are a doctor what would it hurt to have another look at something? It would have taken less then a minute and might have possibly made my life a little easier. It's not like he had another patient to look at.

Instead of him doing his job my mother has bandaged up my toe and I've been on bed rest. Which is very boring. Very boring. And quite possibly the only reason I wrote this post. Because every time I get up and walk around blood starts leaking all over the place. It's messy and disgusting.