I'm sorry. If you promise to heal nicely, the next time I am collapsing a collapsible ladder, I promise not to expose you to imminent destruction by placing you on one of the rungs instead of on the side of the ladder where hands should be placed due to its much safer location. I've learned my lesson well.
The Current Owner of Sausage Hand
So now that you know what I did in my grand intelligence, I shall show you a picture of the aftermath. Nothing can really compete with my neck wound pictures so perhaps the picture of my maimed limb is a bit anti-climatic, after all there wasn't even any real bruising (I am still lamenting that small oversight, which, after some conversation, my hand knows very well and has since promised me that it will be sure to bruise most grotesquely in the event of any other future mishaps). So, to give you a better idea of the desctruction I caused, I took the liberty of dressing up my hand for its portrait with a ring that would under normal circumstances slip right on and off my finger (this will hopefully portray to the masses who are not well-acquainted with my normal state of being that my swollen limb is just that, swollen, and not, as the untrained eye might suspect, merely fat).
Aside from the swelling, the only other major damage you can really see is the small speck of red on my middle finger. I assure you though, that small speck did bleed. Not enough for me to have to get a tissue, but I did see the tell-tale glisten of freshly spilt blood peek through the sliced epidermis. (PS. I just noticed my ring is on backwards. For those of you who know what that means, it was a mistake and not an announcement. For those of you who don't know what that means, you should really look up claddagh rings.)
A few things I've learned while I've been without my three middle fingers for the past few days.
1. Thumbs are amazing. Two thumbs up for thumbs (which I can totally still do)!
2. Washing your hair without two hands, while doable, takes far too much time.
3. Opening your child-proof thyroid medication bottle without being able to grip with one hand and twist with the other, also doable -- though I am sure somewhat amusing to any passing spectators.
4. Putting the lid back on the child-proof thryoid medication bottle -- so not worth the time or energy. Please note parents, my bottle is still currently open so don't let your children run amok in my bedroom.
5. Frosting gravestones. Quick shout out to my roommates who took pity on me and made it possible for me to show up to work on Friday with my graveyard of cupcakes.
6. And finally, typing a blog post with essentially one hand takes probably just about the amount of time you are thinking -- that is if you are thinking "a long time." Course I suppose if I had not let myself wax so verbose than I probably would have been finished awhile ago. But let's be honest, my long-winded randomness is my charm. And I can't let three measly wounded fingers strip me of my charm. So take that fingers! (Yes, I am well aware of my the slightly psychotic masochism. I blame it on my meds.)
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Welcome to my gaping wound! Alright, it really isn't so gaping any more, thusly the title of this post. For those of you unaware, back in January there was a slight incident with some scissors...let's just say your mother was right to tell you not to run with them...Alright, not really. But if that had been the case, I personally think it would have been a great story, and I would have single handedly validated mothers across the world! The short (and true) tale is that I had a treacherous thyroid whose presence I could abide no longer. And so, I yanked it out. And superglued my neck back together again. Alright, I didn't superglue my neck back together, the doctor did. Two thumbs up for superglue!!! Oh and the doctor too. Good job.
To the left you will see Day 1 of Subject A (that's me!) - slit throat in all its glory mere hours after surgery. (Quick shout out to Kelley for having the forethought to bring her camera in order to document what I hope will be a once in a lifetime experience--I mean after all, I only have one thyroid.)
After a two night stay in the hospital--I extended my stay by one night because I just really loved the service--the nurses put me out and told me to go home. I soon recovered from my initial shock and told my mother, "To Panda!"--actually she was heading there anyway and I figured what the heck, even if I can't look left, right, up, or down I could eat. I think my mother summed up my appearance & general all-around-gorgeousness on my first day out of the hospital while we were sitting in Walmart waiting for "the man" to get me some meds when I turned to her--and when I say turned, I do literally mean my whole body as at that point my neck was incapable of making such a masterful twist--and noted that she had an odd expression written across her face. I asked, "Whatcha thinkin Mom?" To which she replied, "It looks like you were attacked by Jack the Ripper." Side note, if you are thinking my neck looks greasy, that's because it is. It's actually covered in antibiotic goop. Apparently superglue can close you up but can't keep out infections, you know like gangrene...that would be unpleasant...course then I could tell people I had gangrene...now that would be a story.
Moving on and a few days ahead, my throat is looking much better if you ask me. A little yellow...not sure if that is sort of some residual bruising or if I have jaundice of the neck, but it eventually goes away, so either way it's all good. On the upside though I'm looking slightly less greasy which I think is a definite plus because contrary to popular belief due to some time spent in foreign lands, I do support general cleanliness. (Jensen & Dunn remember the code - what happens in Bolivia stays in Bolivia.)
And just so you don't have to stare just at my extra smiley face all day long, here I am with my neck and my head! Note the appearance of both my smiley faces. This means I was extra happy when we took this picture. I must have been having an especially good day--even if my hair wasn't being overly cooperative.
As time passed I received fewer and fewer gawking stares from strangers in the grocery store (which really is too bad because I find that I kind of enjoyed their stunned looks) and was even able to take up driving again as full rotational skills returned (freedom!).
And now here we are about 2 months after surgery and my smiley face has finally begun to disappear. Well at least it doesn't look like it is wearing lipstick anymore. :)
So what has this experience taught us?
1. Superglue really is super.
2. Neck wounds can be fun in public arenas.
3. Trying to play the organ without neck mobility is nigh unto impossible though apparently very amusing for your friends down in the congregation. (Yes I saw you laughing...I still had peripheral vision and you were in the front row!)
4. And finally, two smiles are always better than one!