Lish Dorset, super klutz
I'm the klutziest person I know. This is nothing new. I have the medical records to prove it.
Anyone who really knows me knows what I true spazz I am. I used to be a medal-winning ice skater; can be speak in front of thousands; have no problem teaching tomorrow's youth. HOWEVER, when it comes to hurting myself, I am the biggest retard you'll ever meet. When I graduated Michigan State, I had to collect my medical records from Olin and Sparrow Hospital because I was told "it was a good idea." The files were so large I was charged Xerox fees... You'd think I'd be some sort of baby when it comes to pain, knowing my affinity for the emergency room. This is just the opposite. Due to my lack of a gallbladder, I have an unusually high tolerance for pain. Thus would explain the my ankle burn (thanks, Moped!), the scar on the bottom of my foot ("What do you mean there's a 2-inch deep wound in my foot?! Where did all of this blood come from?!) and, of course, my rumbly tummy (Gallstones? I don't need no stinkin' gallstones!). So when I burned my hand, kind of bad, tonight, I didn't think twice...
...Until I was driving over to the Anchor and realized, once I got there, that I was using my drink to keep my hands from swelling.
Yes, I managed to burn BOTH my hands on my flattening iron tonight. My one finger is so bad that I can ACTUALLY SEE the crease marks. How I did it isn't important... What is important is this question: Where are the hospitals in Wayne County?!
OW! Time to go stick these hands in the freezer...
UPDATE, 8-21-06: Well, I ended up having to go to the doctor this morning since I actually sliced my finger open somehow in all of this... I now have a nub instead of an index finger. And to make my morning even better, they told me the hole from my botched piercing three years ago IS in fact opening again. SUPER.
Anyone who really knows me knows what I true spazz I am. I used to be a medal-winning ice skater; can be speak in front of thousands; have no problem teaching tomorrow's youth. HOWEVER, when it comes to hurting myself, I am the biggest retard you'll ever meet. When I graduated Michigan State, I had to collect my medical records from Olin and Sparrow Hospital because I was told "it was a good idea." The files were so large I was charged Xerox fees... You'd think I'd be some sort of baby when it comes to pain, knowing my affinity for the emergency room. This is just the opposite. Due to my lack of a gallbladder, I have an unusually high tolerance for pain. Thus would explain the my ankle burn (thanks, Moped!), the scar on the bottom of my foot ("What do you mean there's a 2-inch deep wound in my foot?! Where did all of this blood come from?!) and, of course, my rumbly tummy (Gallstones? I don't need no stinkin' gallstones!). So when I burned my hand, kind of bad, tonight, I didn't think twice...
...Until I was driving over to the Anchor and realized, once I got there, that I was using my drink to keep my hands from swelling.
Yes, I managed to burn BOTH my hands on my flattening iron tonight. My one finger is so bad that I can ACTUALLY SEE the crease marks. How I did it isn't important... What is important is this question: Where are the hospitals in Wayne County?!
OW! Time to go stick these hands in the freezer...
UPDATE, 8-21-06: Well, I ended up having to go to the doctor this morning since I actually sliced my finger open somehow in all of this... I now have a nub instead of an index finger. And to make my morning even better, they told me the hole from my botched piercing three years ago IS in fact opening again. SUPER.