This past Sunday, which was Easter, my beloved sons came over and joined me for lunch. After they left, I mowed the yard, one of my favorite outdoor hobbies. Really, I love mowing the yard, maybe the other stuff not so much, but I like knowing how much exercise you are getting, relatively fresh air, and I always have a sense of accomplishment when I'm done because you see immediate results.
Now, this was not my first time mowing the yard but after I tell you what I did, you may question that. I noticed the area where the bag would be attached had grass in it and I was thinking, "OK, the blade is at the top so I can lift the window and not be near the blade", I was sadly mistaken. However, thankfully the grass gods were watching out, more likely my Dad, and all I did was cut my middle finger and really gashed my ring finger. The glove I was wearing didn't fare as well.
Naturally, I freak and started saying over and over again "oh my god, oh my god" rushing into the house to put it under water and get a towel. As I removed the glove I saw my fingers were still attached and it was just a really deep cut on the right ring finger. Now the panic of stopping the bleeding commenced. I get that taken care of all the while feeling dizzy and trying to call my Dr's office to see if I needed to come in or just wrap it up. As I'm on hold, yes hold, I look over at my beloved puppy Gigi, who is quite clueless and useless if I'm being honest, because she can't dial or talk to the nurse. Anyhoo, the nurse instructs me to head on in. Great!, now I have to call my son to drive me, not playing favorites but in my head I'm thinking "OK, eldest has to be at work tomorrow at 4am, so he's a no, guess it's my baby beloved on deck." As any parent knows you try and stay strong for your kids, and mine haven't really seen me cry unless some d*ck broke my heart. They didn't even see me cry when my Dad passed, I did that in private. I call B2 and tell him I need a ride to the Dr and start bawling. You can imagine the horror on his face when he arrived.
He takes me to the ER and was perfect! He held my purse, spoke with the Dr asking pertinent questions I would have had I been thinking clearly. He held my hand while they stitched me up. I got a whooping 5. The Dr's reasoning was to "keep the flap pad attached" yes, quite disgusting and it looks even worse. Obviously, this guy was out sick during the Plastic Surgery rotation. But as I keep telling others, it could have been worse, I could have lost 2 fingers or more and I don't care that it's going to leave a scar because its on the bottom of my finger and I'm not a hand model. :)
Kiss Kiss Hug Hug and make today the best you can even if you think its a bad day, you are still breathing and living among the somewhat alive people.
