quilting is a painful art...
erm. yeah.
i have always thought about what i want to be when i grow up. i've thought a lot about going into the medical field, because i could help people, it's a job that's in high demand, it would be lucrative.
yeah. so i'm not so good in an emergency.
faetal is giving me a tutorial about quilting. i've picked out my fabrics (in pretty blues and leaves and glittery stars!), they're in the dryer after having washed them. andrea has given me several scraps to play with, to teach myself to do the pattern that i want to do.
im upstairs, squatting on the floor, frowning at my pattern because it won't go the way i want it to (sewing snaffu), when i hear:
*CHOP*
"owee owee! joey joey help help HELP!"
a minute later, antialias comes into andreas room (where said frowning was happening), and says "um.. andrea cut her finger really bad. i don't know if you ... or what you... i dunno..." and runs back downstairs.
she says that she chopped off half of her nail and a good chunk of her finger with the rotary blade.
i glance at her hand, in a fist, and feel my stomach lurch. i take a step back. i stare at andrea. joel is madly running around the house. "maybe we should put ice on it!" "just call my mother." andrea says. i continue staring at andrea. my mouth opens and closes like a landed fish. i give up trying to talk, and just stare at andrea.
joel goes into the kitchen to get ice. andrea follows. i follow and stare at andrea. my eyes dart to her hand and then back to her face. joel says "we're going to the hospital." andrea says they don't have money to go to the hospital, and that if they only had an old towel... i stare at andrea. a little voice in my head says "WE WERE USING A GREEN ONE EARLIER!!! GRAB THE GREEN ONE! THE ONE FOR IRONING!"
i stare at andrea. i can't remember when i blinked last.
joel says "oh, andrea, you're leaking."
i look in horrid fascination as blood begins to drip, then pool, onto the carpet and kitchen tile.
i just stare.
andrea says "do you want to come to the hospital with us, aubrey?" i blink several times, then say "i, uh.. want to.. but i don't know what good i will do being there.."
they move to the living room. i follow, staring at andrea. i keep thinking frantically that i need to help. i stare. i blink. "um.. where's your jacket?" i ask. she says "i don't know." i don't LOOK for the jacket, mind you, i just go back to staring at andrea.
out of the corner of my eye, i see joel still running around frantically, grabbing her purse, her jacket (which was - duh - hanging up in the closet like all of our other jackets), his keys, then escorts her out.
i stare at them walking down the walk.
i say "um. drive careful, joel. not like an... an... idiot." then i close the door as andrea tells me to make a livejournal post about it, cuz it's exciting.
so.
i will let you know what's up with andrea as soon as i know, though she'll prolly be home long after i'm in bed.
so. for any of you working in the medical field, does that.. numb-minded... DUMBNESS ever go away?!??
and i have no idea why in the world joels driving would concern me so, and how i said it came out quite harsh, almost like i was angry. i'm not angry.. just.. confused.
i need to go clean blood off of the kitchen floor now.
i have always thought about what i want to be when i grow up. i've thought a lot about going into the medical field, because i could help people, it's a job that's in high demand, it would be lucrative.
yeah. so i'm not so good in an emergency.
faetal is giving me a tutorial about quilting. i've picked out my fabrics (in pretty blues and leaves and glittery stars!), they're in the dryer after having washed them. andrea has given me several scraps to play with, to teach myself to do the pattern that i want to do.
im upstairs, squatting on the floor, frowning at my pattern because it won't go the way i want it to (sewing snaffu), when i hear:
*CHOP*
"owee owee! joey joey help help HELP!"
a minute later, antialias comes into andreas room (where said frowning was happening), and says "um.. andrea cut her finger really bad. i don't know if you ... or what you... i dunno..." and runs back downstairs.
she says that she chopped off half of her nail and a good chunk of her finger with the rotary blade.
i glance at her hand, in a fist, and feel my stomach lurch. i take a step back. i stare at andrea. joel is madly running around the house. "maybe we should put ice on it!" "just call my mother." andrea says. i continue staring at andrea. my mouth opens and closes like a landed fish. i give up trying to talk, and just stare at andrea.
joel goes into the kitchen to get ice. andrea follows. i follow and stare at andrea. my eyes dart to her hand and then back to her face. joel says "we're going to the hospital." andrea says they don't have money to go to the hospital, and that if they only had an old towel... i stare at andrea. a little voice in my head says "WE WERE USING A GREEN ONE EARLIER!!! GRAB THE GREEN ONE! THE ONE FOR IRONING!"
i stare at andrea. i can't remember when i blinked last.
joel says "oh, andrea, you're leaking."
i look in horrid fascination as blood begins to drip, then pool, onto the carpet and kitchen tile.
i just stare.
andrea says "do you want to come to the hospital with us, aubrey?" i blink several times, then say "i, uh.. want to.. but i don't know what good i will do being there.."
they move to the living room. i follow, staring at andrea. i keep thinking frantically that i need to help. i stare. i blink. "um.. where's your jacket?" i ask. she says "i don't know." i don't LOOK for the jacket, mind you, i just go back to staring at andrea.
out of the corner of my eye, i see joel still running around frantically, grabbing her purse, her jacket (which was - duh - hanging up in the closet like all of our other jackets), his keys, then escorts her out.
i stare at them walking down the walk.
i say "um. drive careful, joel. not like an... an... idiot." then i close the door as andrea tells me to make a livejournal post about it, cuz it's exciting.
so.
i will let you know what's up with andrea as soon as i know, though she'll prolly be home long after i'm in bed.
so. for any of you working in the medical field, does that.. numb-minded... DUMBNESS ever go away?!??
and i have no idea why in the world joels driving would concern me so, and how i said it came out quite harsh, almost like i was angry. i'm not angry.. just.. confused.
i need to go clean blood off of the kitchen floor now.