Frostbitten fingers (or, picturing pride)
Saturday was a busy day. In between baking biscotti and Handel-ing the Messiah, I set out on a dorky quest. See, my town was very excited for the football team's victory, to the point where a number of marquees and displays were up congratulating them. Just on my way home, I'd pass one of the fire stations and a liquor store with celebratory signs. I knew there were a few more, but I figured they wouldn't be up for long, so Saturday afternoon I drove around town to take pictures while I had the chance. This was despite chilly temps that didn't quite make it to 20F. And, of course, nearly everything was not in a place where parking was convenient, so I had to get out and walk around a bit. I had six stops--a house in a nearby subdivision backing to a roadway, as they spelled out messages using cups stuck in their fence ("Go Dawgs! Win State!"); the east side fire station; the liquor store; the high school (more cups in the fence--"Won State!"); Wendy's; and finally Arby's. Those last two are out on Randall, the main drag on the west side.
The first few stops weren't that bad, cold-wise. It was maybe 3 or 3:30, so the sun was still out, and it was close to 20F, which is the low point of where I'm comfortable. I got the private fence, then headed across town to the fire station; there is no parking in the immediate area, and I wasn't about to park in their lot, so I had to go to this tiny nearby strip mall and walk down a bit. Next was the liquor store, which I pass by daily; I did go in their lot--quite possibly the only time I'll voluntarily find myself in a liquor store parking lot--and I was surprised to see how small it actually is. It looks a lot bigger somehow from the street, but it's on this really awkward lot adjacent to railroad tracks so that probably plays a role. This was the hardest picture to take because of the angle of the sun. Then back on over to the high school, and finally to Randall. Now I have thick gloves, which I kept taking off to use the camera, because otherwise they were too bulky and I couldn't get anything done, at least right-handed. By these last two pictures I really started feeling the cold. My left hand stayed covered but sometimes it doesn't matter; I'm prone to frostbite regardless. I got my pictures and shoved my hand in my pocket, then hurried home to get warm.
I'm home, my mom has just made herself coffee, and she goes upstairs and forgets to bring the mug. I gladly carry it upstairs for her--ahh, warmth. I go downstairs to wash my hands in cool water, in part to help thaw them out, and--what's this? There is a dark purple circle on the pad of my right middle finger just above the first knuckle. What is this, a bruise? How did I hurt myself? I still have no idea. Bizarre. It's possible my hands were so cold that I hit the finger against something hard and didn't realize it. I do bruise easily, but I don't ever recall getting a bruise on the bottom of my fingers. I could not for the life of me figure out what happened. I ended up soaking my hand in cool water for a while to help it thaw out, but it didn't seem to help the bruise.
I went about my day, concerned, but without knowing what was going on I took a wait-and-see attitude. Let me tell you, it was a little difficult doing things at the Messiah; it's hard to clap when you have to watch that finger. By Sunday, it seemed slightly better when I woke up, except I forgot it hurt and I ended up grabbing the WiiFit board like I'd normally do and managed to hit the bruise right on--ouchie. And I was back to it being full-on purple again. It was raised, too. I started to worry it was a blood clot, because in addition to the raised circular bruise, my arm felt a little cold. And, of course, when I started looking online at symptoms and such, I started feeling even worse. Crap, I'm too susceptible to this sort of thing; gotta stop doing that. I started raising my hand and arm above my heart just in case. At work on Monday, though, people figured I'd just grabbed something too hard or bumped my finger without realizing it. One guy asked if I'd flicked somebody off so hard that I bruised my finger. Heh, I kind of like that. For the most part I did my best to avoid using the finger, and now, several days later, you can hardly see there was a bruise there. Okay, maybe it was just a bruise; I can feel that part of the finger when I drive, because I must grip the wheel pretty firmly, especially in this weather (it's snowed a couple times since Saturday, which was another reason I went that day). That's probably what happened. Gotta relax my grip a bit. And, well, always wear gloves, you dumbass.
On the plus side, it was a good thing I went when I did; the east side fire station changed the marquee so that on Monday when I came home, it mentioned keeping the wreath red. So, bruise and all, it was worth it.
The first few stops weren't that bad, cold-wise. It was maybe 3 or 3:30, so the sun was still out, and it was close to 20F, which is the low point of where I'm comfortable. I got the private fence, then headed across town to the fire station; there is no parking in the immediate area, and I wasn't about to park in their lot, so I had to go to this tiny nearby strip mall and walk down a bit. Next was the liquor store, which I pass by daily; I did go in their lot--quite possibly the only time I'll voluntarily find myself in a liquor store parking lot--and I was surprised to see how small it actually is. It looks a lot bigger somehow from the street, but it's on this really awkward lot adjacent to railroad tracks so that probably plays a role. This was the hardest picture to take because of the angle of the sun. Then back on over to the high school, and finally to Randall. Now I have thick gloves, which I kept taking off to use the camera, because otherwise they were too bulky and I couldn't get anything done, at least right-handed. By these last two pictures I really started feeling the cold. My left hand stayed covered but sometimes it doesn't matter; I'm prone to frostbite regardless. I got my pictures and shoved my hand in my pocket, then hurried home to get warm.
I'm home, my mom has just made herself coffee, and she goes upstairs and forgets to bring the mug. I gladly carry it upstairs for her--ahh, warmth. I go downstairs to wash my hands in cool water, in part to help thaw them out, and--what's this? There is a dark purple circle on the pad of my right middle finger just above the first knuckle. What is this, a bruise? How did I hurt myself? I still have no idea. Bizarre. It's possible my hands were so cold that I hit the finger against something hard and didn't realize it. I do bruise easily, but I don't ever recall getting a bruise on the bottom of my fingers. I could not for the life of me figure out what happened. I ended up soaking my hand in cool water for a while to help it thaw out, but it didn't seem to help the bruise.
I went about my day, concerned, but without knowing what was going on I took a wait-and-see attitude. Let me tell you, it was a little difficult doing things at the Messiah; it's hard to clap when you have to watch that finger. By Sunday, it seemed slightly better when I woke up, except I forgot it hurt and I ended up grabbing the WiiFit board like I'd normally do and managed to hit the bruise right on--ouchie. And I was back to it being full-on purple again. It was raised, too. I started to worry it was a blood clot, because in addition to the raised circular bruise, my arm felt a little cold. And, of course, when I started looking online at symptoms and such, I started feeling even worse. Crap, I'm too susceptible to this sort of thing; gotta stop doing that. I started raising my hand and arm above my heart just in case. At work on Monday, though, people figured I'd just grabbed something too hard or bumped my finger without realizing it. One guy asked if I'd flicked somebody off so hard that I bruised my finger. Heh, I kind of like that. For the most part I did my best to avoid using the finger, and now, several days later, you can hardly see there was a bruise there. Okay, maybe it was just a bruise; I can feel that part of the finger when I drive, because I must grip the wheel pretty firmly, especially in this weather (it's snowed a couple times since Saturday, which was another reason I went that day). That's probably what happened. Gotta relax my grip a bit. And, well, always wear gloves, you dumbass.
On the plus side, it was a good thing I went when I did; the east side fire station changed the marquee so that on Monday when I came home, it mentioned keeping the wreath red. So, bruise and all, it was worth it.