Keep 'em in Stitches

You may have noticed the frequency of these blogs decreasing recently. All I have to say about that is, you’re welcome…

So, some weeks are worse than others, but this past week will definitely make my all-time top five. Among a number of annoyances, I found out I get to be on cholesterol-lowering medicine for the foreseeable future; had a pre-screening for and scheduled a “you’re gonna put the camera where?” medical procedure; and then watched as some f**kwad backed into Big Mo in a parking lot, left a big dent, and then drove off.

I did finally make it to the weekend, and had some seemingly harmless activities planned. On Saturday I went to my parent’s house to help them rake up some leaves, clean gutters, that sort of thing. Raking leaves at their house is not just a simple two-hour chore, their backyard is about ¼ acre and they have several large trees. The usual take is about 20-25 garden bags full of leaves.

Things were progressing nicely, and we were in the final stages of putting stuff away. My Dad has a tool shed with a very low roof. But he’s only had it for about 35 years, so I’ve gotten used to it. Or so I thought.

Anyway I was in the shed trying to move the snow-blower and as I stood up to pull it back I banged my head on one of the roof rafters. That is a fairly common occurrence in that shed. I reflexively snapped my head forward and smacked my chin on the top bar of a pipe-metal two-wheeled dolly. In the milliseconds after my chin came into contact with the two-wheeler I managed to bite deeply into my lower lip. I also managed to spout a few words that I didn’t know I knew...

After about 20 minutes of self-inflicted first aid I had managed to slow the bleeding down and decided it was now time for the professionals to take over. Mrs. R met me at the Walk-in clinic. If you are ever at one of these clinics and need to move things along, just start bleeding. Apparently bleeding gets you moved to the front of the line…

After I got back to examining room, I nominated myself for the “Idiot of the Day Award” but the doctor said I didn’t stand a chance. Earlier that day she had helped a father-son duo in which dad had accidentally shot a nail through junior’s finger using a nail gun. To be honest, I just can’t compete with that.

Anyway…

Dr. Susan and Nurse Kelly took very good care of me. There was a brief moment of panic for Nurse Kelly when Dr. Susan threatened to suture Kelly’s fingers to my lips. Other than the Novocain injection into my very sore lip, which was somewhat uncomfortable in that if there weren’t 12 people holding me down I would’ve hurt somebody way that things can be uncomfortable, the stitches went in without any problem.

I have three stitches in my lower lip, it’s a little swollen but not bad, and the skin below my lip is turning black and blue. I get to eat a soft food diet for a week or so, and since Dr. Susan is worried about infections, I get to take a fairly strong antibiotic which is in the process of eliminating all of the bacteria that live in my body, including those in my digestive tract…

Dr. Susan told me that I will likely have a scar on my lip when everything heals, and at first I was devastated by this news, since it likely means my chances of becoming a male super-model have evaporated. On the other hand, the scar will definitely enhance my roguish appearance.

So, you know, at least I got that goin’ for me…