Sunday, February 17, 2008

Cleaning the Bathroom Can Be Hazardous to Your Health

I am not squeamish. I have never panicked at the sight of blood. Even when the Little One stumbled over her own crawling hands and nearly bit her tongue in two I remained calm. Oh my, but did that bleed. A stuck pig couldn't possibly bleed that much. The more she wailed, the more the blood spurted all over the kitchen. I held pressure on it with a cold washcloth until I was able to assess the damage.

Yesterday, as I was cleaning my bathroom (yes, me, cleaning a bathroom), a jar slipped from my grasp. I instinctively tried to catch it, at the exact moment that it shattered into the sink. The jagged glass ripped back a triangle of flesh from my left wrist, apparently hitting a small blood vessel. Blood began to squirt out in all directions. I thought that only happened in the movies.

I quickly determined that I needed to bleed elsewhere, since I would soon have to clean the glass out of that sink, so I wrapped my other hand around my wrist and moved over to the other sink. The blood shot through my fingers, spraying the mirror and all of the items sitting on the vanity. All I could say was "Oh! Oh! Oh!" All I could see was red liquid pouring down my arm. All I could think was, "Now I'm gonna have to clean this all over again!" I had a fleeting concern for my clothing.

I ran cold water over the wound, but I couldn't get a good look at the cut because of all the blood. Let me tell you, it is very distressing to watch your own blood pour out of your body. It messes with your head. Blood is supposed to stay inside, darn it.

Mikel walked around the corner and shouted, "Oh my God! We need to take you to the emergency room!" I hate the ER. I still suffer from PTSD from the last time I went to the ER with a broken elbow and sat around in extreme pain for four hours waiting to be seen. I decided that I didn't want to bleed to death in the ER. I asked for a paper towel, wadded up tight, and applied pressure until I could get a good look at the wound. It is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

I got the bleeding stopped and put a bandaid on it. It hurts like the dickens (I've always wondered about that expression...), and I guess I must have damaged some nerves because I have numbness in my wrist. Lovely. There goes my career as a professional baby bottle temperature tester.

The whole episode left me feeling nauseous and dizzy. I sat down for a couple of minutes to avoid hurling. Then I got up and helped clean up the glass. No rest for the queasy.

No bike ride for me today. Oh well, it's too chilly anyway.

Hope you had a good weekend. And that your body fluids stayed put.

2 comments:

Jen said...

yet another prime example as to why i don't have a spotless house. i mean, surely everyone would rather have me alive, right?? ;-) i won't sacrifice everyone's happiness for my clean house.

amcnew said...

I like your philosophy!