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What Came Before

2005.05 2005.06 2005.07 2005.08 2005.09 2005.10 2005.11 2005.12 2006.01 2006.02 2006.03 2006.04 2006.05 2006.06 2006.07 2006.08 2006.09 2006.10 2006.11 2006.12 2007.01 2007.02 2007.03 2007.04 2007.05 2007.06 2007.07 2007.08 2007.09 2007.10 2007.11 2007.12 2008.01 2008.02 2008.03 2008.04 2008.05 2008.07 2008.09 2008.10 2009.01 2010.01 2010.03 2010.05

From the ghost land of the easy life.

07 November 2005

feelin' that I'd always be the lonely one :

I am Monday's child and Monday fucking hates me with a passion. Thinking I'd wait out the giant storm of celestial blah blah from this Mars retrograde thingy I was all doing that downsizing thing. While I was at unpacking and repacking stuff and getting rid of crap, I took out my old wish jar. It was a Kraft peanut butter glass bear head. It sldi off the bed and broke on the floor. I thought at the time, no big I'll get it later. Later, after forgetting it was there, I stepped on the broken top edge of the still intact jar bottom, slicing a giant smile into the bottom of my oh so flat right foot. I proceeded to curse and scrabble to the bathroom, stopping just long enough to determine that there were not huge shards of glass hanging out of my foot.

Leaving a trail of blood, I got into the bathroom and put my foot into the tub to run cold water over it. I won't lie. I was gonna pass out. I was grossed out to the max, which is why I'm not an EMT. I'm too emphatic. Real blood and pain hurts me to see. Movie blood and pain isn't the same. So there I am, thinking Holy shit I'm gonna faint here and bleed to death from my foot or crack my head open and maybe even drown in the tub. I'm so melodramatic when I see spots and my ears ring and my vision narrows to a dark tunnel.

I fought it off. I made myself breathe. Calm down I said to myself. Just breathe. You're ok, you can do this. You're gonna be fine. Okey dokey. I got it together after about 15 minutes. I just focused on the Price Is Right and Bob Barker whining about how he'd had his putter stolen and hadn't found one he liked or got a hole with since. I focused on how I didn't want more blood on the carpet and how I was gonna get dressed, get my health card and a cab and go to emerg.

I pulled my shit together. I took out an always maxi pad and wrapped it adound my foot and then taped it down with the last of my adhesive medical tape on the nifty metal spool. I decided to crawl out to my departure, and then got out into the main room and realized I had all my boxes everywhere so I would have to stand up to get to the clothes and shoes and money and phone. So I pulled myself up with the dresser and dumped everything off it onto the floor breaking my favourite keepsake jar. Yea, but the mirror was fine so I won something.

After cleaning all that up, picking up all the loose odds and ends and stuffing them in the dresser and then cleaning up the glass from the bear head. I got dressed. I called a cab and went straight to hell. At emerg there were exactly 2 people there infront of me. It was 11.30. By 12.30 the place was filling up. I had a wheel chair but not one with foot rests. When I was triaged they soaked my foot, wrapped it in gauze and stuck a boottie on it. They have the A/C going mach 10 there so I was cold. It was warmer outside at a crisp 5 degrees celsius. After hanging out for like 3 hours I dared ask what the wait time was. I got attitude. The nurse said I should have known to bring a book because the wait would be long and there was 6 people in front of me. She asked this after looking at my chart. Where I'm pretty sure it mentioned that I came in bleeding from slicing open my foot. But where was my head? I should hung out a bit more and got my lunch, books and a walkman in order before seeking medical attention.

Yea so 5 hours later I'm sitting in a curtain and the 'new' doctor comes to see me. By now my foot's been twinging and bugging me for hours. I've had to take a broke ass wheel chair outside and half way around the building (because you can't go anywhere from emerg) to get food and a book to read. I've run into the new triage nurse smoking with her pal and telling me I should have walked, as I struggle to get the chair to go straight and uphill. The new chair I got in the main part of the hospital had the foot rests but went to the right, almost exclusively. I kept going past her and her friend saying "Yea and you could help me if you weren't so busy on a smoke break and then you wonder why people don't feel sorry for you when you complain about your job and you want to strike for more money - becuase you're just so busy doing nothing."

Maybe not the best thing to say. She doesn't like me now. Kept giving me the evil eye after that. Oh fucking well. So 'new' doctor looks at my foot and I have to, for the 50th time today, regale her with my stupidity as to how I got the cut. I'm being a pussy now too. Saying ow to everything. Like when the bandage sticks to the cut, like when the irrigation and tweezers sting. I guess they thought I would cry (I wouldn't I was just keeping my eyes shut so I wouldn't be imagining how what she was doing would feel) so 'new' doctor insisted that having freezing shots in my foot would be too painful and unnecessary. Yes I did need stitches but she was equally sure that this blue glue and little white strippy things would do the trick just as well. So they make me lie on my stomach and glue and strip my foot. Then I get the big DON'T GET IT WET FOR 72 HOURS talk and a piece of paper that says the same. They say walk on it normal, it'll be fine.

Thing is it isn't. It hurts. I can deal. But it's breaking open and bleeding a lot. Like when I first cut it. And so I called them up and asked if that was ok, blood is wet and I'm not supposed to get this wet for 3 days, and it's bleeding a over. Should I come back. The freak on the phone is all like "No you're fine it will ooze a bit and that's ok. You should see the blue glue it will take it'll be fine." And I'm like "Um no it's not oozing it's bleeding, I'm leaving a trail like when I first cut it open, and there's no blue there's the blood and the white stips covered in blood but no blue nothing.' Her response? "Well put pressure on it and if it doesn't stop in 20 minutes then come back."

Umm well ok, of course it stopped. I'm not moving. But I live ALONE. I am going to HAVE TO MOVE at some point. No one else is going to bring me water or food or pee for me. So now I'm all depressed. Because I am alone. No one I knew would even come and wait with me in emerg. Sure Y came and picked me up and brought me to Walmart and then home when I was all glued, but she didn't stay to help me make a path around here. She wants me to call her and let her know how I'm doing but she's getting drunk and high with her new boy toy, so she can't/won't come with me to the emerg if I have to go back. My family? Oh they want a call too, to know what's going on but I can't expect them to come down and hang with me like I'm called upon to do when they go to hospital.

Right now I'm so sad that I'm alone, I almost wish I had passed out and drowned in the tub; because then there would not have to be a next time something huge and scary and painful happens to me and nobody cares enough to show up. I wouldn't have another night worrying about how I was gonna make it and get all I need to get done done while I take it easy enough not to permanently damage myself further. Because let's face it. I only have me. I have good friends, flung far and wide, who would help if they could. But I am here and they are there and at the end of the day - if I choke on chinese food and die alone like Miranda feared in Sex And The City, those people would miss me. But I'd still be dead, becuase I'm alone and I don't even have a cat to eat my dead body. Yea I'm wallowing. I warned you.

Keep blogging.
ghost writer Ambrrrr at 7:51 PM

MenTal fUrbAll