21 February 2012

Post #65

Anger Management. A story in how I schooled myself.

Well, shits.  I learned a life long lesson this past week.  Throwing a purse that weighs a good five pounds, while angry, and trying to slam a door will cause nothing but a whole lot of pain.  I almost ripped the end of my finger off.  After a trip to the ER (where the on-call doctor would have rather treated a sheep with herpes than deal with me), a trip to my general practitioner who knows shit about hand wounds, and finally a trip to a hand surgeon (who I am still on the fence about), I was left with a cracked bone (yeah, not broken...cracked) and this:

What the fuck nurse!?  While your lanyard skills
are very impressive, I am not a Freshman in college who needs to keep
my one key and ID card in check.  

And let me just say, you can't drive with this soap-on-a-rope for shit! I mean I hit blinkers, lights, and windshield wiper settings I didn't even know I had.  Looked like my car was having a damn seizure.

I finally got home.  Where a gift from Amazon awaited.

Guess who's sister got a matching pair?!

That's right.  I figured since my hand will be out of commission for awhile, I can keep my feet warm and clean the floor all at the same time...and so can you Megan.  Get to steppin.

After that excitement wore off I realized that my finger was really starting to burn.  So I took the splint off.  And then it hit me...the crafty ass nurse dutifully fashioned my bandage into a:


The bird is the word,

Katie E. Eshelman

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