So....first things first. Boudreaux is doing awesome!!! He cam out fit as a fiddle and doesn;t seem to mind that his butthole was literally turned inside out. The doc got the polyp and will get back to us next week about pathology results. We're not worried though. Booboo is doing great and we're so happy to have him back and taking glorious, shapely poops again.
Now....to the rest of the week. I still haven;t posted pics from Louisiana...I will soon.
Back to Wednesday...Boudreaux's surgery day.
It was a gorgeous day.....something we don't get much of these days. Of course, I was quietly freaking out about Booboo as I am want to do much of the time. Thanks, Moma, for that nifty personality trait. So...I tell Bing " Hey , I'm gonna go garden a bit...get my mind off things".
And it was working pretty good. The butterflies were aflutter, the phantom sun was happily shining and Astronaut Jones was very happily helping me weed in between snuggle sessions. The Man in Black loves him some snuggling.
After weeding around the garden beds, I decide to do a little " weed eating" of my own. So, I got my trusty dollar store scissors out and starting trimming up here and there. Now, if you know me...you know I am an excellent multi tasker.....in a very sloppy and clumsy way.
Inner monologue while snipping- " I hope Boudreaux is ok, my panties are going up my butt, I wonder if he will have to stay the... OWWWWWWW!!"
As I interruppt my own soliloquoy ( again, I cannot and will not succumb to speel check on my blog. I do not care if this bothers you) with my plaintive wail , I look down and see blood everywhere. Well, crap, I cut myself again....so, I get up and go inside to bandage my latest mishap ( graceful, I am not).
Bing and caroline met me at the back door....upon hearing my "ouch", Bing thought...." wonder what the clutz did now". At first he was smiling when he said "what happened?". My giggly retort of "haha...cut myself again" was not met with the usual sarcastic comment but rather a pallid look of horror and Bing saying " we need to go to the hospital".
Mr. Over-reactor, I thought. But it was bleeding quite a bit...so I thought, oh well, guess I should get a couple of stitches. I go upstairs and change while holding a whole roll of blood soaked paper towels. I come down and Bing and Caroline are ready for our field trip. I am still thinking this is hilarious...Bing not so much. He then says, "I think we should take this".
In his hand was a ziploc bag full of ice and a finger. My finger.
What? Not the whole thing, mind you...but enough to be like " what the hell??!!! you've got my finger in a bag!"
Well....long story made shorter.
1. They could not sew it back on.
2. I could not even look at it in the hospital. You know it's bad when it even grosses out the ER doctor and nurse. However, the dr did commend me for such a nice cleaver like cut.
3. No injury is more white trash than cutting your finger off. You never hear of some aristocrat slamming his finger off reaching for his upper crust in the top drawer.
4. Carting a baby around in WalmArt while buying Mcdonald's, baby formula, and Vicodin should be the penultimate acme of my white trash career. But I'm sure it will not be.
5. Sitting around the house with 1)a dog whose butthole was just turned inside out and has a purple bandage completely around his tail, 2) a giant rabbit ,3) another dog so terrified of fireworks that she is more hopped up than I am on drugs, falling down the stairs, and vomiting down Bing's shorts 4) a baby girl who has taken to random screeching cuz that's just real funny in baby world , 5) and a poor husband who helped me bury my finger outside and is still mourning the little digit.
Margaret said I should get attachments for my finger...a hook for scracthing and soemthing else a bit softer for sensitive skin.
Moma printed out a pic of my newly severed hand and cries every time she passes by the pic. Which makes you wonder why she printed it out in the first place. But that's like the kettle calling the pot black, I suppose. Or the crazy calling the crazy crazy.
When I was back home, Moma was so exicited cuz she was gonna get 50 ears of corn from a man down at the farmer's markert for 10 dollars.
" What you gonna do with 5o ears of corn???"
" Well, I don't know. But 50 ears of corn for 10 dollars? That's a good deal!"
Hmmmmm. Here's the pic of my hand and finger. the little black eyed pea thing on my hand is not in fact a pea but my finger before it was interred and sent back to heaven. notice the dirt under my little finger nail. It make me very happy to think of my dirty little finger flying around in the clouds, its little finger halo not quite straight.
R.I.P. Left Pointy Finger Tip.....
You fing-ed real good. Real Good.
Feb 1973-July 2008
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3 comments:
So sorry to hear about the finger! I am glad that Boudreax (I am pretty sure I butchered that spelling) is good. My friend Penny is known for doing things like chopping off a finger as well. It is nice to see that she isn't the only one! Calvin is a mess on the 4th as well. Lots of drugs necessary for him. Phoenix seemed to do ok. I hear we may be getting together next week. Hope it works out!
You are the best and I laugh out LOUD each time I read your blog.
How FUNNY!!!!! "upon burial, the appendage was laid to rest in the traditional manner.....a 21 middle-finger salute."
.......caleb
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