And Another Thing
.
Before CNN had all those rescue shots, they spent a lot of time talking about some dolphins that were moved to a swimming pool. Anybody know if they survived?

Katrina
.
The information coming out of LA and MS gives me chills. They're trying to fix the broken levees in Lake Ponchitrane (sp?), the water is rising, and there's an impossible number of people needing evacuation. Mississippi looks like it was hit with a tsunami. It's awful.

Bad Mommy Activity
.
Yep. That's me. After 14 years of mommyhood, a piece of my past reached out and slapped me in the face; and I reacted without thinking what I might be teaching my son.
He was shocked by my reaction. I suppose it's all well and good for him to know I'm writing a book about growing up in the inner city; and he loves my amusing stories of bar fights, race wars, and the things kids did with explosives. But I never told him the pervert stories. So he never knew just how deeply the neighborhood pervs affected me. How miserable they made the neighborhood that I played in.

It wasn't even that great an act of perversion. It was just one step over the line of Shit I Never Wanted My Child To See (tm)

What happened was, I went to the ATM for lunch money for L. Some guy was standing in the middle of the parking lot, talking on a cell phone and urinating.

There was a freaking gas station 300 ft. away. There was a video store and grocery store even closer. He couldn't walk to the fucking bathroom? No. He was rotating so that drivers on both Loughborough and Morganford could see him. He wanted to be seen.

And because I'm a bit of a coward, I drove up to the atm and didn't start expressing my opinion until I was hidden from view. I knew in my heart that you can't give these people any recognition whatsoever; yet I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I stated loudly that pissing in public is assinine. That there were at least 3 bathrooms within walking distance. What? He couldn't hold it? Perhaps his prostate was bothering him. Asshole.
Secretly I was fighting the urge to get out of the truck and get in his face. I wanted to grab the piece of anatomy in use, pull him close to my face and cuss at him 'til he squirmed for release. Even though that's the exact wrong thing to do. I suddenly remembered my mom dealing with a similar situation. In my head, I clearly saw her cross the street, walk up to the guy, and stare interestedly at the stream of urine. When he stopped (almost immediately) she said, "You wanted to be watched. I thought I'd give you a proper audience." Then she turned her back on him and walked back to my sister and I. Damn, my mom was cool.

Remembering that, I smiled. I finished my ATM business and drove away. I even looked at the guy as we passed. He was sitting in his truck by then, still on the phone. Strange.

What really pisses me off (no pun intended) is that I let it get to me. In front of my son, no less.

So I Did It
.
I called my insurance company, made sure PT was covered, and called my doctor. My paperwork should be in the mail by tomorrow. I feel relieved. It's not like I'm living through a hurricane or anything.

Speaking of which; L is going to help me go through his old clothes and we're going to donate what doesn't fit anymore to a hurricane relief charity. We don't have a lot of money, we can't ship tapwater... and dammit, we've got a lot of clothes!

...grumble...

It's been 3 weeks and 2 days since I sliced open my foot. I'm sure you're sick of reading about it. I'm certainly sick of living with it. I've gotten some feeling back, but it's really hard to walk on the numb part of my foot. So I wind up "walking" on the outer edge instead; which causes my big toe to curl up. The pad of my big toe has no real feeling and my brain keeps making up sensations to fill the void. Phantom pain comes in great variety. (sigh)

Today, I realized that I can't keep walking like this. It's messing with my whole body. I need to see a physical therapist. And I don't want to.
Thus the title.
*grumble*

My Husband, My Saviour
.
My dearest, darling, love of my life, husband was awake last night after my last entry. He carried the laundry for me. He listened lovingly as I hemmed and hawed over asking him to get up extra early to drive L to school. I *so* didn't want to ask him. And I was so afraid that the pain would be unbearable halfway to school. He looked at the obvious swelling beneath my healed laceration. And this morning, he drove.
(weep)
He is the most awesome person in the universe. I am so fortunate to be his wife.

Back On The Crutches
.
But hopefully only for a night.
Because I let my mom goad me into doing something stupid, (dancing, 80's style) which required me to bounce on my injured foot. Because apparently, I forgot that I was hurt. So I bounced.

And met with a pain I knew once, long ago. The delightful sensation of interior flesh giving way.
Yeah, baby.
There's nothing like a little stupidity to remind you of ballet class. For those of you who have taken dance; remember when you'd have a particularly tight muscle? And you'd think, "I'll just exercise this out." And you'd tear or pull it? Yeah. That.

So I wrapped me in an ace bandage and had the Hubby-Man get my crutches out of the closet. The plan is that the combination of pressure to prevent swelling and no weight at all on my foot will enable me to drive tomorrow. L needs to get to school, you see. And I have no one to call on. The Hubby-Man can't do it, he's working in the opposite direction tomorrow. (sigh)

So applaud my stupidity and pray that traffic is light, ok? Thanks. :)

They Found Me!
.

And all they had to do was search for:

buy anti-diamond shirt death terrorism
Not here, but lots of webstores let you design your own.

fatten girl "the witch " -gretel -hans
I like how Google asks, "did you mean beaten girl... etc? Nice. Very nice. You sick people with your twisted searches.

how does Krispy Kreme donut recycle grease
Never thought to ask.

and my favorite search this week:

bomb "used it as a hammer"

Traffic
.
This is for all the commuters out there. How do you do it every day? And how do you cope once school starts, and the roads become clogged with Mommymobiles and school busses? How long does it take before traffic returns to the normal rush hour squeeze?

Because it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive 22 miles today, and I was ready to cry. How friggin' early do I have to get out the door to avoid these additional drivers? Arrrgh!

All Gone
.
Here it is, my LACERATION (LOL, see injury update post)
Anyway, my laceration, minus the stitches; now that the steristrips have come off:

.
The dark matter is just stuff that wants to stay stuck to my skin. I poured hydrogen peroxide all over the (now healed) wound, and it didn't even foam up. I guess I'll have to soak my foot for a while in order to see nothing but new, pink skin.

...And Then My Sister Voiced Her Opinion
.
She of the medical field, knower of all things gruesome, a person who's opinion I value... Except when she tells me to quit hobbling around already. She pointed out that the stitches are gone. And the SteriStrips don't do any good. So I must be healed.

Right. And when mom had her mastectomy she, what? Didn't need the SteriStrips to hold her skin together? It would have just held together all on it's own, I suppose. Argh!

The thing is, my sister is probably right. And my foot is still sensitive. I'd rather use my cane, thank you. I know I'll have to give up my "crutch" eventually. But not today. :P
*end rant*

Baseball In St. Louis

.
My cousin graduated from Exeter last spring, and he's entering the Navy in January; so his parents threw him a party. At Bush Stadium! Woot!
So we went and sat in the nosebleed seats along with 48 of my cousin's friends and family members. There was no way I was going to miss my only chance to see the Cards play this year. So I put on my red tennis shoes, grabbed my cane and headed to the ball park.

(the Hubby-Man drove)

And guess what? I got to ride in the courtesy golf cart, so I didn't have to walk up to the 3rd tier. AND I got a ride back down again! Wasn't that sweet of them?

My foot was swollen and bruised looking after the game, so I have an ice pack on it now. The ice is very, very good.

Freedom!
.
Tonight, just a few minutes ago actually, I took my first unassisted steps since last Wednesday. You may be thinking, "Woo-do-hoo. The 36 year old is learning to walk... and?"

But I'm tellin' ya, the liberation of those first steps... oh my gods.
I'm not going to over do it. Because I'm not stupid, and I know healing takes time and comes in stages. But, oh man! The sheer, unadulterated JOY of WALKING. You just don't know how beautiful that is until you can't walk.

(sniff... it makes me a bit weepy)

If Yesterday
was an awful day, today was terrific. Because today I had my stitches removed. And we got L's shot record corrected. And the Hubby-Man got himself checked up, too.
Dr. Pozzi was impressed with how cleanly my wound is healing. Thank you to everyone who sent healing energy to my foot. I could feel it! Thank you!

I need to be able to drive by next Thursday; that's when L starts school.

I'm sick and tired of my crutches. I'm tired of asking my family to fetch and carry for me. I'm not used to this kind of incapacity. It's damned frustrating. And yet, I'm so very grateful for the tiniest things my family does for me. Holding a door or carrying a cup of coffee has HUGE value when you can't do it yourself.
I find that I have to plan out my movements, so that everything gets done while I'm up; because once I sit down, I don't want to get up again. Not because I'm lazy (which I am,) but because I'm lifting 130 or so lbs with one lone thigh muscle. It takes effort.

On a positive note, I'm building muscle mass like you wouldn't believe!

Yeah, Buddy!
.
On July 1st, the city of St. Louis began offering benefits to domestic partners of city employees, along with any children the partners may have.

Here's what The Arch City Chronicle says:
"City Extends Benefits to Domestic Partners of Employees

Under the leadership of Richard Frank and with the encouragement of Mayor Slay, St. Louis City has begun offering its employees domestic partnership benefits. The change went into effect July 1 and gives same-sex partners as well as others living in committed, but unmarried relationships, and their children the right to medical, dental and insurance benefits. Enrollees must sign a Affadavit of Domestic Partnership.

Critics of extending such benefits have often cited costs as a barrier. However, the City reports that the change will not add any costs to its medical benefits plan.

The action did not require aldermanic approval and went into effect largely unnoticed. But it is important because it shows that the City is taking meaningful steps to promote itself as a hospitable and progressive community despite a state government which has recently been hostile to gays.
Posted by Dave on August 9, 2005 11:04 AM "

Sweet! Truly, truly sweet!

Amy sent me this quote

Which I modified slightly:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body.......

but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body throughly used up, laughing all the way."

Knitting For Comfort
.
The crutches I've been using (and for which I'm eternally grateful) have no padding. But now that I know how to knit, I've knit up a pair of covers. Here's how:

What you'll need: worsted weight yarn, size 5 needles, tapestry needle for seams.

Cast on 30 stitches. leave a tail for sewing up seams.
knit 2 rows
purl 1 row
row 4: knit 2 together, yarn over, repeat to end of row
row 5: yarn over (or whatever method you like to add a stitch) purl to end of row
row 6-26: knit
row 27: purl
row 28: k2 tog, YO, repeat to end
row 29: purl
rows 30 & 31: knit
cast off, leaving a tail for sewing up seams.
fold knitting in half so that your cast on and cast off sections are touching. Use the tail to sew up to the lacy bit on both sides. Weave in ends or separate yarn and add beads for a decorative touch. The garter stitch gives better padding than stockinette. Picture forthcoming... the camera is in the basement and I ain't doin' stairs!

Giving Credit
.
Not only did Persephone and her family come over to keep me off my foot, she cleaned my kitchen, cooked, and did my dishes! She provided me with coffee and held the door so I could hobble outside. She fetched my meds after I sat down as far as humanly possible from them. She sat in the uncomfortable seat, so I could put my foot up. And she left her partner to keep me company when she had to run out for a bit.
She understood when I tried to do things for myself, gave me leeway, and still prevented me from hurting myself.

Words cannot express how awesome she has been to me. As hectic as her life is right now, she still takes time to chat on the phone; because she knows that if I'm talking, I'm sitting. She gave the Hubby-Man a break from taking care of me. Not that he asked, mind you. She just intuitively knew that he needed a few hours for himself.

Thank you, Persephone. For everything.

And thank you, Chasmyn, for taking the time to talk with me. Calling out of the blue, right when I was freaking out about my foot. Your timing couldn't have been better.

Injury Update
.
Mom found my old crutches and brought them over, then peered over my shoulder as I changed the dressing on my foot, then sat and watched her soap opera, without once offering to get me a cup of coffee.
:(

BUT. Without her crutch-bringing, followed by any assistance whatsoever; I never would have figured out that I can't move my big toe very well. Because the crutches are old and one of the rubber feet fell off when I was trying them out. I tried to pick it up with my toes and discovered that my foot doesn't work so well. I can't make my big toe separate from the other toes. And I have a curiously numb spot that runs from the stitches to the middle of my big toe. Hm.
So it looks like I'll get to be my own guinea pig for comfrey vs. nerve damage. Cool, huh?

On a related note, the ER gives you a piece of paper saying what's wrong with you, how to treat it, and a long caveat that they could be wrong. Mine reads:
"The doctor thinks your complaint might be due to LACERATION. Your regular physician should check this diagnosis" etc.
I laughed out loud over that one. It might be a laceration, but we can't be sure... LOL.
The hubby-man said, "Yeah. It could be from acute skin failure instead."

The Itch To Blog
.
I was going to write about my foot. How odd it is that a major trauma results in me smiling at the world... how this morning I was awoken with an itch so strong it was painful... and how awesome it was to have Persephone come over and keep me from trying to take care of myself...

But first I checked my e-mails, one of which was a summary of my site stats. Now, I know we all get weird hits sometimes; and not counting the x-rated ones, this one was just strange. Somebody went looking for:
old cherokee rituals for getting rid of freckles

Seriously.

Not even NEW Cherokee rituals for getting rid of freckles. No, whoever this was wanted old rituals, only. I don't believe "old" Native Americans had much of a problem with freckles. Do you?

Anyway, my quest to see who else had that combination of words on one page led me to a new blog! Knotty Yarn. Smart, funny, interesting... what more can you ask for?

Gory Pictures Link
.

You can see my stitches here

and a closeup here.
Note the large callous on the ball of my foot. That's because I always pivot in the same foot. Too many years of ballet, LOL.
Also note how fat my foot looks. It's a bit swollen.

The Hubby-Man stayed home from work today to take care of me. I thought he was being silly, but (as usual) he was right. I can't take care of myself today. I gave away my crutches ages ago, so I'm using a bar stool as a walker to get around. Because my hubby is home, I get to blog from his laptop and he brings me coffee and food and knitting. He's so awesome. He really is. I don't know what I would do without him. His support has made all the difference.
(I love you, Hubby-Man!)

Oh... AND
.
The hubby man stepped on a nail while he was carrying me out to the truck. Fortunately, it didn't puncture his foot.

Other things I forgot to include:
I almost burst into tears when I entered the ER, because it was such a relief to know I was somewhere that I could be fixed, and I didn't have to hold myself together anymore. And when I realized that I was relieved, the tears dried up instantly. Weird huh?

After it was all over, I got the shakes. Hubby-Man wrapped me in a blanket and held me until they stopped. Doesn't he rock?

I got a piggy back ride through the backyard, with both my neighbors watching. Salvador said, "Hi! How are you?" And I said, cheerfully, "I got stitches!" Like it was my birthday or something.

When I think about my foot, it still freaks me out.

...And Then I Went To The Emergency Room...

There I was, talking to my doctor's office; trying to clear up L's vaccination record before school... when I stepped on something. Something that sliced my foot open, leaving a 2 inch wide, 3/4 inch deep gash in the sole of my foot. It was broken glass, courtesey of my cat.

I cussed into the phone, apologised to the poor guy on the other end, cussed more as I looked at my foot, apologised again, then told him I'd cut my foot and I'd have to call him back because right now... I needed stitches.
I flung myself down on the massage table, stuck my foot in the air, then realized I had nothing but my unwashed hands to press against the wound to stop the bleeding.
Fortunately, the Hubby-Man was home. He was already in the bathroom looking for gauze. He emerged (gauzeless) with a roll of toilet paper, which he pressed against the sole of my foot, saying, "Are you ok?"
I said, "yes... NO!... I need to go to the hospital!"
He stood next to me, holding my foot and keeping me calm until he could leave without me freaking out. When I was calm; he fetched a bandage, gauze tape, and our son. He bandaged my foot, got us all out the door, half carried me to the truck and drove to the hospital... All without breaking a sweat.
Did I mention he held my hand the whole way as he calmly navigated rush hour traffic in a stick shift? I think he grew another limb for the drive.

The emergency room was practically empty. They met me at the door with a wheelchair and I was triaged right away. The Hubby-Man's calming influence must have made a difference because my blood pressure was 129 over 73. I spent 20 or 30 minutes in the waiting room. Most of my time was spent laying on the floor, meditating.
Because it hurt and I was scared!
The last time I was in a hospital, I was giving birth. So I laid there and compared the waves of nauseating pain to labor. Labor is definately more intense.

After some time spent laying around, they put me in a room on a comfy gurney/bed, where I meditated again. Endorphins don't last very long, and I was starting to really wish for a local anesthetic.
A nice lady came in for my insurance information, quickly followed by a nurse. The nurse asked me questions about my injury before carefully removing my makeshift bandage. (a thick gauze pad and a helluva lot of gauze tape)
The nurse took a quick peek at my foot, said, "Wow. That's deep. You might need an x-ray" She put a fresh bandage on while saying, "I'm going to have the doctor look at this." Before leaving the room. She was really nice about it, though.

I got a quick peek at my foot, too; and started shaking uncontrollably. I suppose that's better than when my nostrils wouldn't stop twitching in the waiting room, which made me laugh, which made my foot hurt, which made my nostrils twitch harder.

Anyway, the doctor came in around the same time I stopped shaking. He pulled back the bandage, looked me straight in the eye and told me I'd need stitches, numbing shots, and that he'd have to probe for glass. Lovely. He also warned me that the shots would really, really hurt.

He wasn't kidding.

Oh, my, freakin, god, did they hurt! I actually screamed. The Hubby-Man held my hand and let me grip his arm while I screamed and gasped. There was a point where my vision went away. The world went black. I remember these things, but I can't recall the actual pain. I guess that means it really, really hurt... just like the doctor said it would.

However. I didn't feel anything but pressure as the doctor cleaned and probed my foot. I only felt one of the 6 stitches I recieved, and compared to the lidocaine shots -it was nothing.

I expect my arm will be sore tomorrow from the tetanus shot they gave me, but my foot is in agony. I keep getting little sparks of pain so sharp, it's crunchy. Oh, and I've got a bunch of antibiotics, too.

So there's my story. I'll post a link to the gory pictures tomorrow, when I change the dressing.

National Night Out
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Tomorrow is national night out; the day you're supposed to go outside and meet your neighbors. My mom and her next door neighbor usually throw a block party. This year her neighborhood is throwing a party at Mt. Pleasant park. So Mom and her friend decided to skip the big party and have an ice cream float social instead. That way, all they need is ice cream, soda and cups.

Previous night-out's would see her street crowded with children, while small groups of adults stood on the sidewalk. She hopes this year will be a little different. She's giving tickets to her neighbors and any guests they bring, and everyone will exchange their ticket for a cup. They will then write their name on the cup, so everyone knows who they are. Like a name tag. Cool, huh?

There will be frisbees, jump ropes and chalk for the kiddies. If it's hot, she'll set up a sprinkler in the street.

I have again volunteered to decorate the street entrance in chalk and draw a few pictures here and there so the kids will know it's ok to draw on the street. Then I plan to get the heck outta there, before mom does anything crazy.
Last year she took on a teenager who wanted to race down the blocked off street full of children. (sigh) That woman is gonna give me a heart attack someday.