Stiches be Gone! And Other News

So…. I have a feeling that more of you are reading this then I think. (I have proof to back that statement up) It’s a little scary! Maybe it is just the posts that something crazy/dumb/gross happens to me? (Tonsilloliths, large insects, or stitches) Apparently bodily injury, nasty growths and oversized creey crawlies make for an interesting read? Glad my discomfort is so entertaining J I did some research actually… In my Rome blog guess what post was most read? My Epic Fail of a trip to Stromboli (if case you didn’t read it… I didn’t make it to the ONE place on this earth that I want to see the most). My most read London post?? The Dragon Lady. (Unlike the Stromboli trip that I am still a prickly about… the Dragon Lady experience is now funny. Although I re-read that post this morning and still felt the stress.) Do you all see a theme??

If you are all really bored and want to go down memory lane with me and laugh at my discomfort please see the below material.

A younger Anna attempting to make a mecca… and failing while squished between 5 very large Sicilians:

http://acorar19rome2010.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-p-i-c-fail.html

One of the posts in which everyone meets the Dragon Lady

http://www.london-christies.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-stressful-start.html

OK now on to the point of this post… the stitches being torn out of my flesh. I wouldn’t choose to spend my free time getting tiny threads ripped out of me, but it really wasn’t bad. The worst part was being the clinic celebrity. I walk in to a mercifully empty waiting room. Basically the entire staff is the same as last Wednesday, which was fun and slightly embarrassing at the same time. I had checked in online so I wouldn’t have to wait 1.5 hours so they all know that someone was coming to get stitches out. I get greeted with a “Hey! We all thought it was you!” Oh goodness…

They bring me back to the trauma room… the same one and get me all set up. This time I snapped a pic to be able to look back fondly on my trauma room experience. The girl was the one I like (NOT the one that called me sweetie) We kinda joked around some and she said that Doc Reynolds was coming right in. I couldn’t remember the crazy one who sewed me up, but I was preparing myself considering that everyone else was the same. I didn’t know if I could handle an antique conversation with her again.

 

Dr. Reynolds walks in and she is the nicest, coolest person. WHY didn’t I get HER to stitch me up. She was so funny. She was asking me how on earth I got a cut there and making fun of me, when she stops, looks at me and says “you are worried about this aren’t you? I can read your face like a book”. GRRR this is not the first time I have heard that. Apparently I can’t keep my face neutral, which is frustrating because I don’t like people to know what I am thinking. I am ok with people I know being able to tell I guess… but I had known her for 45 secs. I can’t seem to hide anything… so I confess that Im a little nervous.

She sits down with her scissors, puts on her gloves, picks up the tweezers, looks at my cut and says “Wow. You are SOOO white” *insert pause* “you are definitely going to need to put scar cream on this”. Ummmm… ok….. thanks? And then she starts… snipping the first stitch… I wince… she pulls… I feel nothing. Ooooo this isn’t going to be bad at all!!! It was so painless and fun/gross to watch. She asked me how it was getting them put in with that big shot. I informed her I almost died… and she didn’t blame me. At least I wasn’t a complete wimp. It made me feel better. That was it though… 5 min ordeal that wasn’t even an ordeal! Phew! I am officially stitch free but I will have a scar to remember that bunny by…

 

 

I did brave the great outdoors during lunch on Wednesday. I ran a quick mile on my run. (well not that quick) and did some sprints. It is sad that I didn’t go anywhere near the stretch with the rocks? I did ease back into running like this:

 

I hate treadmill running though. If I want to run, I would like to actually go somewhere!

Greeting Cards. I hate picking them out. It doesn’t matter what occasion it is for… they are all awful. Im not that mushy… so the message is either WAY to personal/mushy/lovey dovey or really really stupid. Last night I was buying my anti-scar cream (overpriced by the way. Kinda wanted to just have a cool scar) and remembered that I needed a baby card. I peruse the aisle and meander around the ladies who are standing in the middle of the skinny row of cards, reading intensely and not realizing that no one can get around them. All I ever want is a cute card with a normal saying that isn’t $10.99. Is that really too hard to ask?!?!? Apparently it is. Who writes these things?? I found the CUTEST card with little animals and baby clothes on it. “Ohhh this is so cute” I thought. I open the card, praying that the message is ok. I find the below words inscribed:

A brand new baby is

coming your way!!!

Happy Shower

Seriously???? That’s it? Does Papyrus think that the mom-to-be has no idea that they are having a baby? Why state the completely obvious? I literally made a growling noise, huffed and shoved the card back into the rack. All those ladies who were oblivious to the fact that I was attempting to walk around them, all looked up at me. The others were all way to mushy… all stuff about the life changing love. Why can’t any of them say something along the lines of “can’t wait to meet baby” or “Good luck with what I hear is the most painful experience of your life” or even “Yay a baby! Here is some cute mini clothes”? (ok maybe not the second one…) Why can’t a card company write things that normal people would actually say? Just a wild and crazy idea that would make my card shopping less painful. (to make card shopping fun I open every Hoops & Yoyo card that I don’t remember reading before. 1. They are loud 2. They are hilarious and make me happy 3. Everyone stares at you when you play them 4. Did I mention they are hilarious??

I saw this floating around social media today.

 

Isn’t that terrifying??! Or is it just me. One decision and EVERYTHING could change. I think that is why I am such a bad decision maker, because unlike everyone else who thinks this is amazing, I can’t breathe when I read it. What am I changing if I do this, or what happens if I do that?

In other news:

1.       I purchased a new water bottle. I know… really living life on the edge

2.       My hair all fits in a ponytail now. I can’t describe how happy this makes me.

3.       I would like to learn how to play the bagpipes. If anyone knows anyone who has some and wants to teach crazy person to play… please let me know. (preferably for free btw!)

4.       Not sure I’ll write much until post-San Fran. My life isn’t usually exciting enough for so many posts back to back. San Fran will certainly give me something to write about. I cant wait to see the really big red trees!!! Always have wanted to!

5.       I got a Save the Date for my first ever class reunion… HWS 5^th. Glup! I do miss my college buddies. I miss college in general actually. No adult choices. Not much responsibility. And if you forgot to plan dinner, you just had to walk across campus. Funny how you don’t realize that you are living the dream until you aren’t. (there are probably some rose tinted glasses on at this moment… but still. College was awesome)

Oh random angry moment… have any of you heard of the Nuba Mountains? If you haven’t watch this 10 min video and read the article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/13/opinion/the-worst-atrocity-youve-never-heard-of.html

So when the western world said “Never Again” after the Holocaust… did they just mean European/1^st world genocides? Just curious because it seems like there are a few events going on in the world that are classifiable as a genocide. And how is Omar al-Bashir still the president? And it is great that world powers make these eloquent speeches about how horrible genocide is…. And nothing happens. I understand there are politics, but at the same time I say screw the politics. Humans with the power to stop or even aid other humans shouldn't let things like these to happen. Elie Wiesel says it perfectly:

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.”

I am back to not wanting to go back to school. Im in the “need to change the world” mode at the moment. I don’t think a PhD is big enough. I need to figure out something bigger and better. Although Dr. Rusch does sound pretty good. (I guess I would be Dr. Rusch the 2^nd)

Ok that’s all I have!

All About Stitches and How They Itch

 “Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway.”

My new quote this week. I like it J Kinda makes me want to rebel… against what? I have no idea. But nonetheless, it’s wants me to go be awesome at something!

So…. I am still in one piece. This weekend my body and I just crashed. Hard. My arm was so sore from the tetanus shot. (I thought it was from doing pushups. I did some Wed. night before my disastrous run… by some I mean 10. Yeah… no upper body strength. Never have had any. No judgement! But I realized that if I was sore from pushups… both arms would be sore. Not just my left.) My arm got more and more sore over the weekend and the pain kinda spread throughout my arm. My ankle is still sore. It’s the one I hurt in college, but the outside. I think it has something to do with stepping on a baseball sized rock and falling on my face. Im sure that it was tweaked. I am all for hunting that Alice in Wonderland rabbit down and eating him/her. I’m not usually that violent but guess what… its his/her’s fault and rabbit is tasty. This is exactly what the rabbit looked like:

 

This is the rabbit from Alice and Wonderland:

 

SEE!!!! Slap a waistcoat on Mr.Rabbit and it’s the Alice Rabbit. But instead of me falling down a rabbit hole, I fell flat on my face/hand/leg into a pile of vicious, flesh cutting rocks. Perhaps Im not worthy enough to go to Wonderland, so I missed the hole? If I ever find the wardrobe to Narnia… that better work. Just saying.

My stitches look better. See:

I sat out of soccer this week though. Lame. I decided that it wasn’t it worth it, because knowing my luck I’d get cleated right in my stitches. I really cannot handle my stitches splitting open. Speaking of that… I have no idea how one gets stiches removed. I have an inkling, and I hope I’m wrong. I am going to drink lots of water so I don’t pass out. Kinda hoping it isn’t the same Doctor Friend that I had last time. She was funny…. But not funny. I can’t handle her when I am attempting to be ok with a needle and thread being pushed through my flesh. I really don’t want to talk about antiques when someone is sewing my skin. Any other time, I will gladly discuss Chippendale, Serves and Wedgwood. Just not while Im attempting to keep myself from freaking out.

My stiches are starting to itch. I am not a fan. I had a dream last night that there were tiny little bugs crawling over my wound and I woke up to my leg itching like CRAZY. You know how you aren’t the smartest crayon in the box when you are rudely awakened suddenly. Well… I was convinced that there were a million little bugs on my leg. Convinced enough to turn on the light and check the sheets. Watson was not amused. He even woke up enough to meow at me. It is all a foggy blur, but I am pretty sure I told him to shut up before falling back into bed.

Speaking of kitty… he had an eventful weekend. It was 75% his fault and 25% mine. I apparently an incapable of closing the front door. I don’t think it latched and slowly creaked open without me noticing. One minute Watson has his cute little head in all of the cupboards (I was purging them) and leaping in and out. The next minute he was exploring the great outdoors. Usually that would have been fairly non-adventurous. That day, however, I was dog sitting and both dogs were inside the front yard fence. This is where I mess up… I spot Watson on the opposite side of the yard then the dogs so… what do I do? Walk towards him telling him how running outside was a dumb idea. The dogs hadn’t even noticed that he was roaming about… until I drew attention to him. He was a sitting duck. Fluffy can tearing over to inspect. I was proud of Watson. He faced Fluffy, arched his back, took a swipe at her… and missed. After the miss he became more of a scaredy cat (get it!) and went up a huge tree. It was blaringly apparent that this cat had never scaled a tree before. The poor thing was halfway up the trunk, clinging for dear life and incredibly stuck. I peeled him off the tree and he gives me the dirty look he could muster. Seriously? Yes… I may have been the reason that a dog just came full-out sprinting at you, but I just peeled you off a tree and you were the one who went out of the door. I have one ungrateful cat.

More to come on the next!

 

 



 

Stitches Cont'd and Dashed Lego Dreams

First of all… thank you everyone for the Facebook comments, messages, emails and texts that I have received! They definitely made my day and some were hilarious. It is so amazing how much support I have from friends and family, even though I am far, far away! I am so grateful for everyone! J

According to my blogger stats… the blog was 68 times yesterday! SIXTY-EIGHT. I don’t know 68 people… so someone just must have gone into a lot! Yesterday’s post was viewed 45 times!! You all really need to get a life and do something besides reading my boring blog!! Perhaps I should up my ante!

I survived work yesterday… somehow. I need to come up with another story, however. Every time someone asked what happened to my leg… it went something like this:

Concerned Co-Worker (CC)- “Yo Anna! What’s up with your leg”

Me- “oh…. I had to get stitches”

CC- “WHAT?!?! Why?!?”

Me- “Ummmm…. Well…. I was running… and… well… I kinda tripped and fell into a bed of rocks….”

CC- *begins chuckling…. Realizes they are chuckling… looks guilty and then “Ummm wow. Im sorry. So a rock cut you? How many stiches do you have?”

Me- “Yeah I think it was a rock because that’s what I fell on. And there are 8”

CC- “Holy Crap!! You have 8 from a rock?!? And you fell running??” *begins to chuckle again…. Realizes that they are chuckling… looks guilty and then “well I hope it heals fast and you are ok!”

Me- “Thanks……”

I definitely need a better story. Something involving an angry dog, or a harrowing rescue of a baby.

I am one of those girls that eat their feelings. Not gunna lie. I stopped at Walmart to get some Bday supplies, and remembered that I didn’t have dinner planned. Crap. So I made a journey down my favorite aisle…. The Tyson chicken/TGIF Fridays/Ice Cream aisle. I wanted everything. And I saw the Tyson “buffalo” chicken bites and got an enormous craving for wings, but knew that those chicken bites would stink and not live up to my expectations. So… I bought a pack of chicken, cut it up, DRENCHED it Franks Red Hot sauce (combined with uber top secret ingredients). I ate almost the entire package of chicken. I had taken the bandage off of my wound and cleaned it by this point, so I needed to eat my weight in buffalo chicken. To make myself feel better, I keep telling myself that it was better than eating the breaded Tyson Chicken bites!

Last night was another adventure. Although it wasn’t quite as bad as urgent care… I still did not enjoy. I am pretty certain that I held my breath for the entire time that I was unwinding my bandage. Then I would be really nervous because I was going to see the stitches, then realized there was another layer to unravel… then I got really nervous to see the stitches… then realized there was a gauze pad. (If you remember, I was laying on my back, staring at the ceiling and clutching my ice pack when they cleaned/bandaged me all up. I had zero recollection of how many layers were wrapped around my leg) It was when I hit the gauze layer that things got a little hairy. My “no stick” gauze square was STICKING!!!!! FALSE. ADVERTISING.

I want to re-iterate that I have never injured myself… so I was completely horrified that the gauze was sticking to the knots of my stitches via dry and crusty blood. That was when I started chanting “I can do this… I can do this…” over and over. The breathing stopped again, while I slowly unstuck the crusty, black with blood, bandage. I was really registering what I was seeing underneath… just focusing on the unsticking process, so when I was finally done staring in horror at the gauze in my right hand, I looked down and saw this:

 

That. Be. GROSS. Have you ever seen something that horrifies you, but it’s so disturbing that you can’t stop staring? That was me in that moment. I could see the skin being pulled together by the 8 stitches and the 8 little lines that was taunt from holding my flesh together. Then I started looking at the little threads and realized that they went under my skin too... and they were pulling my skin together. Then I just kept thinking about it… and staring and then freaking out. I told Watson all about it, but otherwise I would have started to lose it. And I was delaying the inevitable… I had to clean it.

Ahhhh cleaning stitches. What a pleasant and soothing experience. NOT! My leg was no longer numb so 1. It hurt. 2. I could feel every gentle tug at my skin every time I hit a knot with the gauze. I had to talk aloud the entire time. I was basically being a crazy person. I loved that every now and then Watson would meow and I interpreted them as “You got this” or “That sucks”. Although he was most likely telling me “Suck it up”, “You are fine” or “You have completely lost sanity that you previously possessed”. Im sticking with the encouraging phrases J My aching wound was now hurting and bright red at this point…. So I went to eat my feelings (see above paragraph about chicken)

This morning I made a slightly shady decision… I picked pants. It was an attempt to hide the sewing job on my leg (which did work) but every time I move, I feel the little “bunny ears” (as my doctor called them… which is kinda ironic since it was a rabbit that put me in this situation. And my mom broke her leg because of rabbits (she claims)… Are bunnies out to get the Rusch girls??) wiggle. When they wiggle they pull the stitch that is imbedded in my flesh. Its gross and slightly painful. Painful is too strong of a word… twingy?

Topic change:

All of you Western New Yorkers will hate me after this statement…. I want to be cold. I want to walk outside and get hit with a wall of cold (or at this point even cool) air. Even walking outside in a long sleeve shirt and being comfortable would be awesome. It’s always hot here. Always. It better snow wherever I am for Christmas this year. I miss it. Yes it’s a pain, Yes I hate shoveling, Yes its gross when it’s all brown… but it’s awesome really pretty and crunches under my uber cute winter boots that I haven’t gotten wear at ALL this past year. (And my winter coat, scarves, mittens and hats. Winter has such great accessories)

I had such a great plan. I had it all planned out. I was going to save up enough Lego VIP points and buy the one set that I drool over every time I walk into the Lego store. (Besides the Death Star of course. I cant justify spending that much money on that) I want the Tower Bridge. It’s a little sad and slightly pathetic how much I want it. I decided that $125 is the most I can justify on spending on one box of plastic pieces. (especially since I build all my sets instantly… and fast. Once I start I cant walk away) At 4287 pieces, 40in long x 17in high x 10 wide, complete with a red double decker bus and London taxi, the set is a whopping $240. It is $115 over my $125 limit. But… I have $30 in ID points. The plan… save every point and earn $$$ to make up the $115 difference. Imagine my dismay then when I receive this email:

 

WHAT?!?!?! POINTS EXPIRE?!??!! Since when?!? L

OK that’s all I have. And I need to get to work! Until next time something crazy happens to me….

A Rabbit, A Rock, 8 Stitches and 2 Shots

*Disclaimer: There are some potentially disturbing photos in the post below. Read at your own risk.

Let’s start with the main story of this post. As you all know, I have to run a half marathon in December because I had a really weak moment in which I thought I could actually run 13.2 miles without stopping. The girl who abhors running. Always has. Well, I decided that after going to the gym on Tuesday night that I wouldn’t run Wednesday morning. I would run Wednesday night since I was WFH (work from home) and I wouldn’t have a commute home, therefore more time. So I head out at about 7:45 or so. I cant believe Im saying this… but it wasn’t that bad. It was “cool” out, a breeze and I switched out my music so I went somewhere else for once. I was rocking it. (for me. Rocking it at my standards) I was at 2.7 miles and still didn’t hate my life so I decided I would at least get a 5k in. Just as I was making this decision, a rabbit decided to make an appearance.

Rabbits in this state are huge. The one thing that is actually “bigger in Texas”. Trees are tiny bushes compared to everywhere else, but the rabbits… huge, with cool big floppy ears. Well there was one of these cool rabbits by the fence to my left that caught my attention by moving. So I look over at it and think “aww its kinda like the ‘Im late! I’m late! I’m late for a very important date!’ rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.” While I am thinking about this and said rabbit, I was apparently drifting to the right… where I proceeded to step on a baseball sized rock.

This is the “crime scene”. Rabbit on left by the fence, big rocks on right.

The first thing I usually think when I fall on my face is “crap, I really hope no one saw that”. Pride comes before physical injury. I scan the surrounding area and confirm… No humans. Phew. Then I realize that my hand really kinda hurts. All my weight fell on it and since I landed in a bed of baseball side rocks, the landing was a little rough. I move off the rocks and place my bum on the sidewalk, looking at my aching hand the entire time. No cuts. Im good. No one saw me. Even better. So I sit on the sidewalk and pause my workout on my phone (its counting time still) and laugh. That was so clumsy, but no harm done. Then…. I felt it. The wet, trickling feeling going down my leg. I look down and see this:

 

Hmmmm ok. That is gross. Seeing blood doesn’t bother me (that changes in a few paragraphs) so Im still calm and cool as a cucumber. I try to think is there is anything I can wipe the blood off with and continue with my run (it was going really well). Then I realized that this was really, really bleeding. Perhaps I should just go home. I head home and avoid people with my bright red leg. I walk inside and tell Watson hello and look at my leg… kinda getting worse:

I take off my blood soaked sock and hop on the kitchen island, armed with wet paper towels and start wiping the blood off of my leg. I’m still ok with the blood… just telling Watson all about my tumble, and telling him to not sniff the previous white paper towels. Then I get to the cut itself…. There is mountain of congealed blood on top of it. I poke at it with my paper towel and instead of being liquid… its like a gel. This is when I’m suddenly no longer ok with this situation. I decide its time…. It’s time to call the mom. I have never cut myself this badly, so I don’t know how to clean wounds. Mothers know these things. So I call and explain that Im ok… but bleeding profusely. J I called for advice on cleaning open wounds but instead I got... “go to urgent care”. If you know anything about my mom, you know that she is pretty hardcore when it comes to bodily injury. I fell down “you are fine”. I got hit in soccer and after the game I got “Why did it take you so long to get up. You seemed fine”. My sister walked around with a broken finger for days because she was fine and it was just a jam. So… when my mom tells me that I should go to urgent care… Im a little worried. But then again… its just a cut. I don’t want to go for a 1.5 inch cut (although it was as wide as a Q-tip end). We hang up and I am stood at my car with my keys in my hand, debating if I really need to go. Mom is overreacting right? Its just a cut…. But I cant get it to stop bleeding… sigh.

I had the same debate when I got to the clinic parking lot. I finally go inside and check in… feeling really dumb. I joke with the receptionist (she was really funny too) and the nurse. I need humor to get through this. They bring me in about 10 mins later for blood pressure and temp. They said my heart was beating a little fast… umm Im bleeding so… yeah. It probably is. The lady gave me a Band-Aid and some gauze and sent me back to the waiting room. I sat there for an hour and as every minute went by, I felt dumber and dumber. Its just a cut and Im sitting in the waiting room at my bedtime. I look down and the Band-Aid is bright red and there is blood pouring down my leg. Goodness!! I attempt to mop it up with tissues and gauze for 20 minutes when they finally called me in.

They lead me into the trauma room. Really… the trauma room?!?! Its just a cut! The girl sits me down in a huge chair and we are just chatting. I am explaining that I am overreacting but my mom told me I should come. She takes the Band-Aid off, gasps and says “holy…..”. She just looks at me. “you were going to just slap a Band-Aid on this?!?” Ummm... yes. Yes I was. She hands me a vaccine questionnaire, tells me to fill it out and walks out to get the doctor. Vaccine waiver?!?!? Wait what? The panic starts to set in. Im fine... its just a cut. Right?

The doctor walks in. She is a character. At about 65 she is a bristly, but nice at the same time lady. At this point I resort to humor because I would have started panicking. She wheels up a metal table with a blue bundle on it. Oh crappers… that is a suture kit. (I know this because of Grey’s Anatomy). She is chatting away and asking me why Im in Texas and was I still in school. She asked where I went to college and I say “HWS… it’s a small liberal arts school in NY” and she looks at me with this uber dirty look and says all haughtily “I know where it is. It’s a good school”. Wow… well excuse me. While she is filling the biggest shot that I have ever seen in my life, right in front of me, we discover we have a common interest… Antiques Roadshow. She got a lot nicer after that.

She sits down and explains that the suture kit is the just the “tools of her trade” and I was just like… it’s a sewing kit. She thought that was funny and said that she didn’t want to be so honest about it. Lady… Im beyond being ok with this situation so Im just calling it how it is. I then had to hear about that since she was so tall growing up that she had to fix hems and such on her clothes… and that made her a better doctor. I know she was trying to distract me but… it wasn’t working. She had the biggest shot EVER in one hand, and an alcohol pad in the other.

I wasn’t in any pain at all… until the alcohol pad was driven into my open flesh wound. Holy crap. How can one little square of cloth make that much pain. That was nothing though to the shot. I couldn’t look. I wish she wouldn’t have been so honest with me on this part. I assumed that she would inject the anesthesia AROUND the wound… not directly in it. She stuck that huge needle in my wound 5 times and injected the worst burn I have ever felt all the way up and down my 1.5 inch wound. I barely survived. I don’t do well with shots. I really don’t do well with shots into gaping holes in my body. I thought I was going to die right there in that chair. I didn’t though… I was alive. The problem with me is that I cant really handle the fact that she is going to sew my skin together… but I couldn’t not watch. It was so cool! I couldn’t feel anything (except for some tugging with made me slightly nauseous). We chatted about antiques and other random things. She then says “you didn’t ask how many stitches you were going to get.” Wow lady… Im sorry. I was distracted by the LARGE NEEDLES and the LARGE AMOUNT OF MY BLOOD EVERYWHERE. “Oh yeah… how many”… she looks at me like im the dumbest human being ever and says “I don’t know until Im done”. Ummm ok…. Wow.

We were on stich number 8 when it happened. The spots, the sweating, the constricted breathing. Doctor friend lady had told me to tell her if I was going to pass out. I had made it through 7 stiches and she was tying the last one when I had to tell her….. “I see spots”. She whips into action and lays the chair back. Phew feeling better. Then she opens the door and hollers “can I get some help in here? Ice please! Pronto”. Goodness lady! Im not DYING! I receive an extremely cold ice back and just hang out while they pick everything up. They scrub the crusty blood off of me and bandage me all up. I feel so better. Its all over. That vaccine thing must have been for the shot in my leg right?

I don’t cry in public. At all. I did cry at a movie when it was just Alex and I in the entire theater… and that was awkward enough. The nurse came back in and said “ok… time for the tetanus shot”. I could feel my eyes welling up. No… no no no! I am TWENTY SIX years old. I can’t cry over a shot. I sit in the chair and think over and over again that I really am going to be ok… and that I am never running again. She turns around to ask me what arm I want it in… and she says “Sweetie… are you ok?”. There are some rules in life. One of them is that people can only call me “Sweetie” if we are dating. Or if the person is 80+. Not a girl who is my age. That stopped my eyes welling though. I picked my left arm, laid back down and clutched my ice pack for support.

I have never wanted to leave the doctor’s office so badly in my life (except maybe the first trip to the gyno). The nurses and receptionist that I was joking with earlier were still in the lobby (its 11:15 at this point) and they all ask if I was alive, if my mom was right, and if I was overreacting by coming in. It was a good distraction. They let me leave and I go home to figure out how to become un-stinky without getting my leg wet. Argh. I couldn’t even relax in the shower. Instead I had to take a cumbersome bath with my leg dangling over the edge. The last time I wanted at 11:45 was an ab workout. . I had to wash cloth wash my leg. I hate wash cloth washing. It makes me itchy. And I never feel like I get all of the soap back off. Grrr.  Here my leg is… all bundled and dry post bath:

 

Today I am tired. 6 hours of sleep isn’t enough. My cut aches. Probably because the skin is being held together by stitches. I can’t cross my legs because the spot hits the other leg no matter which leg is crossing which. I have a huge bandage on that I cant take off til tonight. Then I get to clean my wound twice a day. My next blog will have a picture of the stiches. Promise J

I wanted to take a picture or a video during the sewing but my phone had died as soon as I had walked into the Trauma Room. (it did end up being traumatic) I also would like to comment that my hand is perfectly fine. No mark even.

The moral of the story? (well there are four).

1.       Moms tend to be correct. Its kinda annoying…. But its just the way it is

2.       Don’t go running

3.       Perhaps having kids is a bad idea. I hear there are shots involved with that process at well. And IVs. May have to re-think that one….

4.    Next time Sister does something really silly and ends up at urgent care, I will not laugh. I now know what it feels like to “Pull a Katie”

 

 

 

Baseball, USWNT and Watson

 

 

Come ti vidi

M’innamorai,

E tu sorridi

Perchè lo sai.

Stumbled on this quote. Google says it’s from Falstaff… and I love it. It’s my new favorite at the moment!

USWNT team is WORLD CHAMPIONS. I am so excited. I was glad to be alone for the first 16 minutes of that game. Oh my goodness was I freaking out. When Carli Lloyd is on... she is unstoppable. What a bad day to be Japan. I think I was jumping around the living room for 16 mins. Literally. What a way for Abby and Christine to go out. The coverage and attention that this World Cup received is encouraging! The final was the most watched soccer game in United States HISTORY. Pretty sure that the Men’s team wishes that they played soccer like girls ;) Just read this statement from the NY Times below:

The United States’ 5-2 victory over Japan in the Women’s World Cup final on Sunday was seen by 25.4 million viewers on Fox — a record for any soccer game, men’s or women’s, shown on English-language television in this country.

With nearly 1.3 million viewers watching on Telemundo, the Spanish-language station, the total of 26.7 million also exceeds the record 26.5 million combined viewers that saw Germany beat Argentina in last year’s men’s World Cup final on ABC and Spanish-language Univision.

In effect, the United States women are now champions on two fronts, a testament to their enduring talent and to their appeal to an American public that increasingly seems tuned in to soccer.

The WOMENS FINAL had more viewers that the MENS. Keep that in mind when you read this infuriating article:

http://www.upworthy.com/5-ridiculous-things-fifa-spent-more-money-on-than-prizes-for-the-us-womens-champions

I have already pre-ordered the new USWNT jersey with the THIRD star! I picked Julie Johnston because 1. She is awesome. 2. She wears #19. 2. If she keeps playing like that, she will be around for awhile!

After watching so much soccer this past month, I wonder why on earth high schools want to put in turf. You see the leg abrasions and hear the announcers say “its 70 here in Edmonton but the field temp is 120!” How is playing on overheated plastic a good idea? I mean really…

Speaking of soccer… my “season” ended two weeks ago. I did sign up for next season as it is the only physical activity that I enjoy doing. I still have to remind myself that Im not in college anymore. I haven’t been lifting, practicing 3 hours a day and no longer have David Beckham knees or a 6 pack. My shots are more rainbows than bullets these days, my attempts to make my defender fall over from my moves now end with me on the ground and my first touches are horrible. (I would like to point out that I did one time the ball with my left foot last game and I actually struck it well… although I missed the goal by 3 inches) But… despite me playing like an eighth grader… it is actually a lot of fun.

For the last game of the season, I had a mini fan club complete with a homemade sign. Carefully crafted, this sign of epic proportions boasted a bilingual slogan and glitter. The sign creator (Rich) cheered loudly and even bribed my defender with $20 to let me score (see…Im not the soccer player I used to be!). The guy was a tree and I couldn’t get by him.

(Rich and I. Also a big shout out to his wife Amanda for making an extra Target run for the sign supplies!)

 

I love the baseball stadium experience. The atmosphere, the food (although not the prices) and I only like baseball in real life. On tv is pure torture (JUST above watching golf and Nascar. I don’t know why golf is even on tv.) Last weekend was Yanks vs Astros in Houston. I think Jared and I should avoid Yankee games. Pretty sure we were both mad at each other at some point during the nine innings. My hatred is equal to his love…. Which wasn’t probably good! Alex Rodriguez is his favorite player (insert eyerolls, gags and everything else) and I think he is a horrible person and doesn’t deserve to be playing baseball… so that went well. See my post on Instagram:

Yeah… the truth hurts. Sorry not sorry. I did manage to shock everyone when I asked who the old guy was that was standing 20 feet from me. Jared answered “Nolan Ryan” in a shocked voice and then I ask “who’s Nolan?” The security guard just kinda stared at me in disbelief. Apparently he was a pretty awesome pitcher? No clue. I blame dad on this one. He doesn’t like baseball so we never watched it at home. Apparently my sister knows these things and failed to inform me so… blame is placed on her as well. I love the responses to my post on facebook…. Perhaps I shouldn’t always admit my ignorance.

The Yanks won on a botched call. (Dumb call that left two runners on base who both scored) It was a good game though. The Astros fought back to even the score 6-6 with homeruns. I cheered loudly for a team that I couldn’t name a player on the roster. J The video below is during the 7^th inning stretch because apparently “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” isn’t good enough for Texas baseball J (Yes I know that the stupid thing needs rotated… I just couldn’t figure it out. Sorry)



 

The long weekend was so nice. I love days off… especially when they are paid! It’s amazing! The family had a party here on Saturday for the 4^th which was fun. I watched the 3^rd place game (YAY England!) with a Ukrainian, ate lots of food, swam and even got to see fireworks from a distance. It wasn’t the same as the fireworks in Lakewood though! I always loved being close enough to them to feel them going off. And Alex’s running commentary was always a requirement. Holidays… even these tiny ones… make me miss home a little. I miss the picnics for Labor Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July and Ashville Days (although not really a holiday, those fireworks are the best!). Summer makes me miss home actually… it’s the best time to be in WNY!

The nice part about long hair is that I can wake up in the morning, brush it and bam… ready to go. When my hair is shoulder length or above, things tend to get shady. The problem is I shower at night and go right to bed. Looking into the mirror in the morning is always an adventure. Thank goodness for hair straighteners! Sometimes that doesn’t even help. Well now that I am working at home I am getting up and running, then showering. Brushing my hair has become completely optional. (along with matching, well-fitting clothing and makeup) Apparently my hair likes not being brushed because when I don’t try to make my hair look nice and it doesn’t matter if it actually does, it looks good. So I think I may just give up on the battle. If you know me, you know I have two hair styles…. Down and ponytail. When I played sports the French braid would make an appearance, and when my hair was long it would find its way on top of my head in a bun when I was stressed. Anyways… my hair looked amazing yesterday because no one had to see me. BUT on one of the two days this week that a human will see me, my hair looks like something attempted to nest in it. I put it in a ponytail and Im pretty sure it looks worse. Sigh.

Nothing incredibly awkward or embarrassing has happened to me lately. Pretty sure it’s a record! I did forget Watson’s 1 year birthday on 6/30. I am the worst cat mom ever. I told him that we will celebrate on the year mark of his arrival. He is officially on Big Cat food… and I think he is ecstatic. I actually picked a food that was a little more expensive than the cheap, cheap kind. He devours it. He has started devouring rolls/bread. Weirdo. Watson is a little more leery of stealing spinach leaves from my bowl since yesterday he unexpectedly experienced red wine vinegar/olive oil/oregano. He freaked out. Other than that…. He is the same. Just a year older. I am pretty sure that he hates me working from home all of the time. I have my headphones on ALL the time, and I BELT out the songs. Out of key, I am sure. He GLARES sometimes. I woke him up from his sun bathing this morning when a John Denver song came on my shuffle. I told him to blame his Cat-Grandma…. It’s her fault that I know every.single.word to every.single.John.Denver.song. I am sure that Sister knows my pain. J (to make matters worse, it was “thank God Im a Country Boy”… which involves me air-fiddling)

My list is still going well! The professor hasn’t emailed me back though… sigh. I stalk my email way too much. We shall see though. I had an interview for a coaching position last week and I am really hoping that it works out. In the last 3 years coaching is the only thing that I really enjoyed and looked forward to doing. Speaking of 3 years… where has 3 years gone! Im one month away from my 3 year “USA Re-entry” anniversary. Wow!

I was asked on Thursday what I wanted to be when I grew up. I just froze, stuttered and then gave up. I didn’t have an answer. Kinda not ok with that…. And I wonder why I can never commit to applying to school.