Ewww

Ewww. Just Ewww.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am much more intimately acquainted with the plumbing in this house than I would like.  The plumbing here is nothing short of a country-ingenuity masterwork.  So when I heard some strange sounds coming from the pipes today I ran through my checklist:

Washing machine in the basement – Clear of any backup.

Dig through the snow to reveal the outside clean-out buried in its hole and run it through – Clear of any backup and no real resistance to the 40 feet of PVC I ran down it.

Open up the clean-out in the basement and check for blockages.

Now that step deserves a little explanation.  I have several improvised tools to reach in there and cut through roots or snag things and pull them out.  Today required something new.  With a garbage bag snugged at the shoulder I reached in with a bent wire hanger.  I had to reach all the way in, and while the garbage bag was a good idea, it wasn’t quite made for the job.  Leaning over the washing machine, arm up to my shoulder in the sewer line and feeling a lot like Mike Rowe doing artificial insemination for cattle, I finally snagged the cute little guy in the picture.  It’s about four inches across and has fins and a tail.  It was obviously meant to swim.  I really need to get a fish tank so things like this stop going for swims in the toilet.

I am a Bad Patient

I don’t know if it is from growing up around people who sawed off their own casts because they got in the way or how in my extended family putting stitches in or taking them out was done at home all the time… I don’t know if it was the general mentality of basically never seeing a doctor unless you were dragged there.

It could have developed as I racked-up millions of frequent flier miles at hospitals.  I knew the check-in procedures so well I was often asked if I worked there.  I know the drill, go here, do this, wear this, blah blah blah for most of the procedures I have the pleasure of enduring often.  The nurses generally get frustrated with me because I also know their little lists of “this patient is most likely here because of x,y,z” and I tell them nope, I am not.  One male nurse in particular got pretty feisty with me over a test to rule out “y” and I told him I’d only do it if he did, too.   (Little note to any health-care provider: anyone whose chart has to be hauled in on a hand truck probably knows when it isn’t “y” and don’t be surprised if they are ready for you.)

The advice they give is usually the same: reduce stress, exercise, eat well, blah blah blah.  I’ve been on bedrest I don’t even know how many times now.  Bedrest as a mom, especially of infants or toddlers, is a joke.

Speaking of jokes though, I think I have been a fun patient for a few of my doctors.  Don’t get me wrong, either; I love my doctors.  They are awesome.  I have a great time joking around with them.  After watching an episode of  “House” where someone wrote “not this leg” or something similar, my husband thought it was funny to draw on me before surgeries.  Sometimes he’d label my left and right side, draw arrows that said “this end up”, silly things.  The latest was a huge scene of an island with palm tree and an X, “Here there be buried treasure!” was written above.  The Doc got a big kick out of it and said he’d never seen anything like it.  He said his first thought was that he’d just seen me two days before and I didn’t have a tattoo that big. LOL  So he and the scrub team tried to wash it off only to discover it was done in Sharpie.  So the Doc added “Arggghh!” to my pirate scene in Sharpie as well.  It didn’t come off for weeks but it was a fun way to make light of a crappy situation.

But back to me being a bad patient.  After the pirate surgery I wasn’t supposed to lift or do much of anything for a while.  Ooops.  I popped a couple stitches from doing too much and had to have them redone.  That wasn’t the first time, either.  I have a hard time being on light duty.  Kinda like the splint/brace thing I decided to take off my hand tonight.  I just want to be able to do more again.  And taking a power tool to the tree that was at the crux of this current injury felt pretty cathartic, too. 

So to my doctors, I love you guys and I love joking around with you.  I just have a hard time sometimes on the “take it easy” portion of the discharge slip.

Darwin Awards

I nominate myself for a Darwin Award for the epic fail move I pulled off today.  I sawed open my hand with a bow saw while cutting branches on an apple tree.  No, the superficial cuts I gave myself when the saw bounced accidentally didn’t clue me into the need to change my hold or positioning or get gloves.  No, that would make too much sense and I was almost done anyway.

I was pushing hard through a branch and the saw skipped up.  I took a whole stroke to my hand.  It was one of those moments when you recognize that you have hurt yourself badly but you don’t yet feel it.  I had a second to press my hand to my leg while waiting for the inevitable pain.  Then it came, and the blood, and then it went dark.

Luckily when you’re the mom, somebody always needs you for something so my daughter found me and got another daughter to help me in the house.  They can tell you how many times I passed out.  I don’t remember this part well.   Next thing I knew I was on my bed, the kids were on the phone with Grandma and Grandpa and my youngest was giving me a wet washcloth to clean off the blood.  It was fairly surreal.

I assured my parents that there was no need to come help, that all was well, but they were still waiting on the freeway on-ramp as my oldest drove me to the clinic.  I’m almost surprised they didn’t call for a police escort.   But it was sweet of them to come and I know they were worried.

So I managed to fillet open my finger and nick the bone and tendon.  Luckily it wasn’t worse because I’d be in another city having a specialist put the pieces back together right now if it were.  So some stitches, bandaids, and a DTP shot and I’m good to go.  Except my arm will ache for a few weeks, and my fingers are taped together.  I doubt I will be able to knit or spin or do much of anything for a while. I just have to smile and laugh at myself because it’s my own fault and I knew better.  But the really funny part is that I had only moments before decided that using my chain saw within 4 inches of my foot wasn’t the best idea and switched to the bow saw.  Maybe that glimmer of intelligent thought will rob me of the coveted Darwin Award this time, but I was >< this close to being a contender! lol