R Rated

For those of you with a weak stomach, please do not read or look at the picture in this post.

In follow-up to the 'G Rated' post, I will relate the more graphic version of last Tuesday night. View discretion is advised.

Sasha and I finished with the Young Women's activity last Tuesday night, which was on modesty and drove home. No, it was not a dark, rainy night, but it could have been. Because what I am fixin' to relate only happens in nightmares.

When we arrived at the house, it was dark and empty, and horror of horrors there was a counter full of dirty dishes which needed to be washed. (Gasp!!!!) Earlier in the day, Sasha had gotten a glass down out of the cabinet to get a drink of milk. Only to notice, there was a crack in it from half way up the glass to the rim. Teresa had told her to it was trash, but somehow it did not get thrown away.

Seeing these dirty dishes, I decided I needed to do something about them before the overran my house. My weapons of choice... a sponge, water, dish soap, and good old fashion elbow grease. I have an aversion to dirty, greasy dish water (I am afraid I will catch some foul disease like dirtogreasowateritis. It is a true disease, look it up). So, I keep clean water running the entire time I wash dishes.

After knocking out a few of my larger opponents (pots and pans), I picked up the culprit to abliterate the scum. After giving it a good one, two on the inside, I attacked the outside with a vengeance. Too much of a vengeance, because I him in half, and in the process, sliced open my right thumb.

Having worked in the Operating Room for a number of years, I no bad when I see bad. Trust me this was bad. Blood started gushing out, pulsing and uncontrollable. Immediately I applied pressure to staunch the flow.

Screaming to my sidekick for help, which did no good considering Sasha wasn't wearing her hearing aids, I received no help. To gain the assistance I needed, I had to kick her in the leg. Finally, having gotten her to look at me I was able to communicate my need for a paper towel.

Marcus was not due home for another ten minutes. I was unable to use the phone to call help to the scene of the crime. So, I had to wait until he arrived. Marcus came and after convincing him I actually needed help, he called his mother. When she arrived, she got a hold of a friend in my ward, Lacey Schofield to see if she could take me to the hospital. She was able to get a hold of Jean Fields to take me to the emergency room to address my battle wound.

Upon arriving at this safe haven, I was admit into the care of two person, Austin Long RN and Dr. Holland DO to assist in putting me back together again (much like Humpty Dumpty). After an hour and a half of holding pressure, Dr Holland asked to see. Much to my surprise, blood was still gushing out of my thumb. What had a done? What would Dr. Holland do?

Because of the excellent pressure which I had held faithfully for the last hour and a half, Dr Holland and I had an argument over how many stitches I would need. I wagered I would need multiple, he thought one. He tried to pressure me into not calling on my friend Lidocaine 0.5% plain (a numbing agent). I insisted he use it.

Boy was it a good thing. Once he jabbed that needle down into my thumb to inject this sweet, merciful tonic and pour soap on it to clean it, he realized just how bad it actually was. Five stitches later, I should have bet the man on it, I was almost as good as new. However, had I known what I know today, I might not have gone into the ER. The worst part was yet to come... the dreaded TETANUS SHOT.

I believe Austin (who I worked with in the OR for four years) took great pleasure in giving me this shot, because it has pained me ever since. I took it in the shoulder (not my bum), in case any of you had any doubts. I took it like a real woman.

I returned to the scene of the crime, exhausted and fell into bed, only to be awoken by another nightmare... the alarm clock going off at 6:30 am. The Start of a New Day.