The Dog
Hey guys.
Have I got a story for you. If you don't ever read anything else in your life, read this. You'll either cry or crack up.
The entirety of our family has gathered in Memphis from Nashville TN, Houston TX, Hernando MS, and it seems like everywhere else to attend dad's funeral. I'll go into more detail in my planned post about the events of dad's passing, but basically I have a good amount of relatives on my dad's side that I haven't even talked to, much less seen, in 5, 10, even 20 years.
One of these relatives is my dad's sister, Aunt Janey. We were close when I was a tiny little beauty queen, but somehow lost touch over the years even though she still lives in Memphis.
After arranging dad's funeral with Aunt Janey, her husband David, my brother Jay, and several family members over the phone, we had to travel to Iuka, MS to pick up dad's personal effects from the hospital where he passed away (he was a truck driver and was on the way home from a job). On the way back, we decided to get my 3 brothers and sisters (on my dad's side - never really talk about them because I barely know them) and all the cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. together for dinner to catch up and kindof celebrate my birthday.
I chose Molly's on Madison because it seemed like it was pretty equidistant from every out-of-town relative's location. I called Jeremy and asked if he'd like to come, and since he had friends meeting up at Celtic Crossing in the Cooper-Young area, we were going to go hang out after dinner. I told him to get dressed and ready and I'd call with a specific time once all the relatives were reached and plans set.
We got to my aunt's house to pick her up after our trip to Iuka, which took 6 hours because we got lost on the way down there (she'd stayed in Memphis to work on dad's clothes and flower arrangement decisions).
The next few minutes are like a whirlwind. I walked in the door where my aunt's german shepherd/mutt/huge-ass horse-dog was standing and started to pet him. He wandered into the kitchen and toward the back door. Jay went to ask Aunt Janey if we could let him outside. I walked up behind the dog, leaned over, and started to say something to him playfully like, "Wanna go outside?" or something, and he turned, barked, and, with one giant CHOMP, sunk his teeth into my cheeks and across my lip.
I felt my lip pull open and blood started gushing everywhere. "JAY! JAY!" I started screaming and ran toward the master bathroom where they were talking. Aunt Janey (the drama queen) started screaming at the top of her lungs. Jay held my hand and got me to the sink, where I released my hands from my face and looked up at the mirror. Blood fell freely out of my gaping lip and I began crying as I tried to wash off the wound. Jay called David, who had gone to get gas, and we all ran outside to the car and ran every red light on Germantown Parkway on the way to the hospital.
This part can get a little graphic so if you're squeamish you may want to just say "I'm really sorry" and not read any more!
I called Jeremy and gave him mom's phone number and asked him to meet us at Methodist Germantown and tell her the same if she wasn't working. Between sobs I looked down at the wet towel I held against my face, and cried even more when I saw the blood and pieces of my lip that were stuck to it.
We walked into the emergency room; everyone was sitting quietly, family members talking to one another, and here I come, bloody towel in hand, sobbing incessantly, with my dramatic aunt in tow trying to explain what happened. They took my vitals and personal information and released me to the waiting room.
I spent the next 3 hours or so in the waiting room. People who looked perfectly normal were being called back one by one, and there I sat, my cheeks beginning to swell from the initial bite wounds on my lower jaw, the inch-long gash hanging open. I went to the restroom and made the mistake of looking at my face when I washed my hands. I could see the tissue inside my lip moving with every breath I took. All I could think of was that "body modification" in which people get their tongues split in two so they look kindof like a snake. The two sides of my lip looked like that - split wide open and just moving as if independent of one another.
At about 11:00 (my guess), I was taken to a room and allowed to lie down. My mom and Jeremy were there with me. I had some ice that a nurse had given me some thirty minutes after I arrived. I was exhausted, hadn't eaten all day... Not to mention the stress and general unhappiness about dealing with dad's death. I was given Tylenol around 11:30, and only after I specifically asked the nurse if I could have something for the pain.
Around 12:30 (again, my guess, as I was a little out of it), a pretty female doctor came in to look at my lip and assess whether she could stitch it up or if she needed a plastic surgeon to do the job. She claimed to be able to complete the task, so she had a nurse bring in the equipment and about thirty minute later I was receiving local anaesthesia to numb my lip. I've never had stitches before, and let me tell ya, those shots to the lip HURT.
About thirty minutes and seven stitches later, my lip was in one piece again. She said that it was a little jagged in one place, probably where his teeth initially tore the skin, but that she felt like she did a good job at piecing it back together and that it should heal and look pretty normal. I had to sign papers and they asked me for a $200 payment, but considering that my aunt's homeowners insurance is going to pay for all my bills, and also that I waited 5 hours for some damn stitches, my mom advised me to decline to pay and wait for word from the insurance company.
So, at 2:30 a.m., we left the emergency room and headed to the nearest 24-hour Walgreens to get my Darvocet and antibiotic prescriptions.
The last 6 hours of my bithday was spent in enormous pain in the emergency room with a gaping hole in my lip, mourning the loss of my father.. However, I was surrounded by friends and family that were all terribly worried about me, so I know that it definitely could have been worse. The wound looks pretty terrible today, but at least all the pieces of my lip were there; I realize that the bite could have been a lot worse - he could have gotten my nose or eye, and then I'd have to be in the hospital for longer and definitely have a lot more work done.
I feel like I have a pretty good attitude about the whole thing given all the circumstances - I could be angry and ill-tempered about it all but really, what good would that do me or anyone else? There's nothing that can be done about my lip now other than take care of it and help it heal. This weekend is about my dad - mourning his death and celebrating his life, not worrying about me.
Here is a picture (with my camera phone, because my digital camera is in my purse, which is in my aunt's car where I left it as I ran into the emergency room) of the wound as it looks today. The stitches are all there, and if you're good you can see the swelling of my jaw as well. If you're one of those folks who likes to see wounds (I know, my mom is one - she loves being an EMT and was fascinated by everything that transpired yesterday), stay tuned and I'll keep you updated on the progress.
Have I got a story for you. If you don't ever read anything else in your life, read this. You'll either cry or crack up.
The entirety of our family has gathered in Memphis from Nashville TN, Houston TX, Hernando MS, and it seems like everywhere else to attend dad's funeral. I'll go into more detail in my planned post about the events of dad's passing, but basically I have a good amount of relatives on my dad's side that I haven't even talked to, much less seen, in 5, 10, even 20 years.
One of these relatives is my dad's sister, Aunt Janey. We were close when I was a tiny little beauty queen, but somehow lost touch over the years even though she still lives in Memphis.
After arranging dad's funeral with Aunt Janey, her husband David, my brother Jay, and several family members over the phone, we had to travel to Iuka, MS to pick up dad's personal effects from the hospital where he passed away (he was a truck driver and was on the way home from a job). On the way back, we decided to get my 3 brothers and sisters (on my dad's side - never really talk about them because I barely know them) and all the cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. together for dinner to catch up and kindof celebrate my birthday.
I chose Molly's on Madison because it seemed like it was pretty equidistant from every out-of-town relative's location. I called Jeremy and asked if he'd like to come, and since he had friends meeting up at Celtic Crossing in the Cooper-Young area, we were going to go hang out after dinner. I told him to get dressed and ready and I'd call with a specific time once all the relatives were reached and plans set.
We got to my aunt's house to pick her up after our trip to Iuka, which took 6 hours because we got lost on the way down there (she'd stayed in Memphis to work on dad's clothes and flower arrangement decisions).
The next few minutes are like a whirlwind. I walked in the door where my aunt's german shepherd/mutt/huge-ass horse-dog was standing and started to pet him. He wandered into the kitchen and toward the back door. Jay went to ask Aunt Janey if we could let him outside. I walked up behind the dog, leaned over, and started to say something to him playfully like, "Wanna go outside?" or something, and he turned, barked, and, with one giant CHOMP, sunk his teeth into my cheeks and across my lip.
I felt my lip pull open and blood started gushing everywhere. "JAY! JAY!" I started screaming and ran toward the master bathroom where they were talking. Aunt Janey (the drama queen) started screaming at the top of her lungs. Jay held my hand and got me to the sink, where I released my hands from my face and looked up at the mirror. Blood fell freely out of my gaping lip and I began crying as I tried to wash off the wound. Jay called David, who had gone to get gas, and we all ran outside to the car and ran every red light on Germantown Parkway on the way to the hospital.
This part can get a little graphic so if you're squeamish you may want to just say "I'm really sorry" and not read any more!
I called Jeremy and gave him mom's phone number and asked him to meet us at Methodist Germantown and tell her the same if she wasn't working. Between sobs I looked down at the wet towel I held against my face, and cried even more when I saw the blood and pieces of my lip that were stuck to it.
We walked into the emergency room; everyone was sitting quietly, family members talking to one another, and here I come, bloody towel in hand, sobbing incessantly, with my dramatic aunt in tow trying to explain what happened. They took my vitals and personal information and released me to the waiting room.
I spent the next 3 hours or so in the waiting room. People who looked perfectly normal were being called back one by one, and there I sat, my cheeks beginning to swell from the initial bite wounds on my lower jaw, the inch-long gash hanging open. I went to the restroom and made the mistake of looking at my face when I washed my hands. I could see the tissue inside my lip moving with every breath I took. All I could think of was that "body modification" in which people get their tongues split in two so they look kindof like a snake. The two sides of my lip looked like that - split wide open and just moving as if independent of one another.
At about 11:00 (my guess), I was taken to a room and allowed to lie down. My mom and Jeremy were there with me. I had some ice that a nurse had given me some thirty minutes after I arrived. I was exhausted, hadn't eaten all day... Not to mention the stress and general unhappiness about dealing with dad's death. I was given Tylenol around 11:30, and only after I specifically asked the nurse if I could have something for the pain.
Around 12:30 (again, my guess, as I was a little out of it), a pretty female doctor came in to look at my lip and assess whether she could stitch it up or if she needed a plastic surgeon to do the job. She claimed to be able to complete the task, so she had a nurse bring in the equipment and about thirty minute later I was receiving local anaesthesia to numb my lip. I've never had stitches before, and let me tell ya, those shots to the lip HURT.
About thirty minutes and seven stitches later, my lip was in one piece again. She said that it was a little jagged in one place, probably where his teeth initially tore the skin, but that she felt like she did a good job at piecing it back together and that it should heal and look pretty normal. I had to sign papers and they asked me for a $200 payment, but considering that my aunt's homeowners insurance is going to pay for all my bills, and also that I waited 5 hours for some damn stitches, my mom advised me to decline to pay and wait for word from the insurance company.
So, at 2:30 a.m., we left the emergency room and headed to the nearest 24-hour Walgreens to get my Darvocet and antibiotic prescriptions.
The last 6 hours of my bithday was spent in enormous pain in the emergency room with a gaping hole in my lip, mourning the loss of my father.. However, I was surrounded by friends and family that were all terribly worried about me, so I know that it definitely could have been worse. The wound looks pretty terrible today, but at least all the pieces of my lip were there; I realize that the bite could have been a lot worse - he could have gotten my nose or eye, and then I'd have to be in the hospital for longer and definitely have a lot more work done.
I feel like I have a pretty good attitude about the whole thing given all the circumstances - I could be angry and ill-tempered about it all but really, what good would that do me or anyone else? There's nothing that can be done about my lip now other than take care of it and help it heal. This weekend is about my dad - mourning his death and celebrating his life, not worrying about me.
Here is a picture (with my camera phone, because my digital camera is in my purse, which is in my aunt's car where I left it as I ran into the emergency room) of the wound as it looks today. The stitches are all there, and if you're good you can see the swelling of my jaw as well. If you're one of those folks who likes to see wounds (I know, my mom is one - she loves being an EMT and was fascinated by everything that transpired yesterday), stay tuned and I'll keep you updated on the progress.