So Evan and I had gone to Mommy Dearest's house today to drop off the dog food that we got for Tiki. She asked me to take the fingernail polish off of her toes because when she bends over she gets muscle spasms.
So I sat on the floor and did it. Left my foot under her recliner.
All of a sudden, she tried to close the recliner. I couldn't even yell or anything because I was so shocked.
When I pulled my foot out from under the recliner, it looked like the recliner had just scratched the fuck out of my foot.
But I looked closer AND SAW "THE WHITE MEAT" (AKA fatty tissue).
I practically started hyperventilating. It didn't really hurt, I just have never hurt myself that bad. Never had stitches before today.
Evan looked at it and said "That's disgusting, I'm not looking at it again!" and MD, of course, was like "I don't want to see it!"
So she had to go change out of her house dress and put on some clothes to drive me to the ER.
I'm so proud of Evan, though. In the past when there was an emergency, he got frazzled and just looked at me like "WTF am I supposed to do?"
Today he was like "It will be ok. Don't even think about it. Try to breathe. Look at me. It will be all right."
Very calm. Very grown up. Seriously. I saw a new side of my baby today and it looks like he did get the "calm in an emergency" gene from me after all. ☺
So he got me some paper towels and a wal-mart bag. He put the towels over my cut so I didn't have to see it and we tied up my foot in the bag so the blood wouldn't drip everywhere.
I was wondering how I was going to get out to the car because I didn't know if walking on my foot would make the cut worse or what.
My son said "I'll carry you."
Me - No you won't. (I mean, he's strong, but I can't imagine him fucking carrying me and I could see in my mind him falling over in the yard and both of us go spilling on the grass with Tiki running around licking our faces, LOL.
Anyway, my mother has a quad-cane from something, I don't remember, but I hobbled out to the car with it.
So in the car I was talking a mile a minute or singing just to keep my mind off of my foot because I thought it would hurt worse if I thought about it.
Normally when I sing in the car, MD makes fun of me or tells me to shut up. Today, because she felt so guilty, -
MD - I can't even tell you to shut the fuck up.
Me - LMFAO!
By the time we got to the ER, there had to be at least 3 TBLS of blood collected in the bottom of the bag. I really didn't want to look because I didn't want to freak out again.
The gist is I got the first stitches in my life today because my mother tried to cut off my foot (or break my foot) by closing the recliner on it.
I have 5 stitches. There is a picture coming up. Don't look if you're squeamish. I'd have taken one before I got the stitches but that one glance was enough for me.
LOOK AWAY NOW. TTYL.
If you're still here, I'm fiddnuh take one of the Darvocet that the very talkative doctor gave me and pass out. Sleep tonight!!!!!! Wheeeeeeeee.