High on my priority list for time in MN was spending time w/ the Pankratz family. I went over on Thursday night, stayed over and then Lori and I planned to garage sale on Friday morning. I've missed garage saleing the last three years abroad, so I was very excited to embark on an early morning adventure with The Master (seriously, Lori finds the BEST stuff at garage sales: amazing clothes and recently a paninni press! i hoped that if I went with her that I could maybe get in on some of her good luck).
We went to Litchfield and stopped several places. Nothing overly exciting. Maybe my unconscious was needing some excitement and sought it out (wow, I've been reading too much psychoanalytic theory lately. . .). Maybe I'm just unlucky. But before I knew it, I had excitement on my hands.
We were getting ready to leave a sale. Lori was paying for her items. I had already paid for mine. I was milling around when suddenly I felt very sharp pain in my right foot. I looked down and saw a lot of blood. One of my toes had caught the leg of a metal table (the sharp metal table of DOOM!) and had been sliced open. I could feel myself feel a little queasy. The sight of blood usually doesn't bother me (hey, I made it through 13 season of ER w/ no problems!) but I knew I needed to sit down.
I don't remember too much that happened after this. Apparently they got a chair to me just in time for my body to kind of convulse and slip out of it. The next thing I remember is being surrounded by strange people while I tried to figure out where I was. I came too but was kind of going in and out. I was verbally responsive but suddenly felt a wave of nausea. They brought over a garbage can just in time for me to share the sight of the bran flakes I had for breakfast with everyone.
At this time Lori was trying to call my mom, who thankfully was in the house. Lori asked her what to do/if it was okay to bring me someplace (not wanting to incur some unnecessary medical bill). A guy carried me to the car. Lori drove me to my parents' clinic. They stitched it up. I finally started to get some color back in my face. Mom met us there and brought me home.
Then I spent the afternoon trying to get a hold of the correct Tricare offices since I was injured and treated "out of area." Oh joy.
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Lori took this picture w/ her phone after it had been cleaned up. It actually doesn't look bad in this shot at all, but her comment/disclaimer was "what you didn't see Joy is them flipping it around after they numbed it to clean it. i almost threw up." Gross.
Not a big deal at all (though five stitches between your toes is not a real awesome spot) but an eventful morning. I'm just so glad it's my foot and not my hand. I'd rather hobble around than try to function one handed. It's amazing how little things like this are HUGE reminders of how grateful we should be for our bodies. We may be unhappy with how they look and wish different bits were different shapes and sizes, but they do some pretty amazing things at the end of the day. I'm so so so so so grateful that I have the ability to walk and that I have use of both of my arms/hands. One of my greatest fears in life has always been loosing any of those capacities.
below is a picture from my dad's b-day when i was in MN in aug 2008
2 comments:
I'm thinking more gray and less hair for your dad but you still look the same, somehow the UK didn't change your looks, just your speech which we can't hear on the blog. Brilliant!
I just took a big bite of a peanut butter/chocolate chip cookie and then read how you blew chunks at the garage sale...nice!
Glad you are all stitched up. Hope that's all the medical drama for the year!
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