So, if you follow me on facebook, you will know that for the past couple of months I've been in Georgia, braiding hair at the renaissance festival here. I had a great season, was happy to see a lot of my regulars and play with their lovely locks. I had some fabulous meetings with the amazing Rhonni Rocks, who has a wonderful blog as well as an incredible educational tool for people in the festival industry at her website, festival prose. (Seriously, I adore this inspiring woman; AND she introduced me to the BBC's Sherlock.)
Now that the season has wrapped up, my plan was to drive to Wisconsin with the co-creators of Sirena, Amanda and Sam, on Tuesday. Well, on Monday, I wound up in the hospital with a seriously nasty gash on my leg. Seriously. Nasty.
I have a 650lb travel trailer on wheels that attaches to my car. I, along with three others, was standing at the front of the trailer attempting to push it backwards up our driveway toward the garage so I could pack it up. There is a dip from the road to the driveway, so we figured if we gave it a good running start and pushed really hard, we could probably get it up the dip. So I stood at the hitch, and we all ran and pushed. The wheels hit the dip, and the trailer bounced back with all of that force and all of its weight into my leg. I thought, "Ouch, that's going to bruise," looked down, and immediately went into shock because I was not looking at a bruise.
Shock is a hell of a thing. That's a direct quote from my sister, who was leaving to go to work when this happened and whose car I was thrust into just moments after my leg had been gouged open. I picked up a t-shirt from the floor of her car, wrapped my leg up, mostly for a tourniquet, but partly so I wouldn't have to look at it any more, and proceeded to sing Taylor Swift songs at the top of my lungs until we made it to the hospital, which we fortunately live ten minutes away from. From then on, it was four hours of waiting and being shuffled to different rooms to wait. At one point, a nurse said, "Sorry, there's no room for you in the inn," and I chuckled, or just thought it was strange--I can't remember. Eventually I was stitched up (19 stitches two layers deep), and given a tetanus shot, which, after the stitches, hurt about as much as a fly landing on my arm.
I've been on crutches for several days now and have to take it easy so as not to split open the stitches, which there is a high risk of doing seeing as how EPICALLY BIG the gash was in my leg. When it was done, my sister said, "I didn't even know what they were going to stitch together. I was very impressed." She watched the whole thing and said she could see my muscle flex when I moved my foot. GROSS! There are pictures of the wound before and after stitches, but I haven't seen the before picture because it would probably make me vomit. But here's the after picture!
So, now that I can hobble around, I will finish that packing I meant to do on Monday and hopefully head up to Wisconsin tomorrow.
Until next time, friends. Stay safe, and don't do stupid things!
Now that the season has wrapped up, my plan was to drive to Wisconsin with the co-creators of Sirena, Amanda and Sam, on Tuesday. Well, on Monday, I wound up in the hospital with a seriously nasty gash on my leg. Seriously. Nasty.
I have a 650lb travel trailer on wheels that attaches to my car. I, along with three others, was standing at the front of the trailer attempting to push it backwards up our driveway toward the garage so I could pack it up. There is a dip from the road to the driveway, so we figured if we gave it a good running start and pushed really hard, we could probably get it up the dip. So I stood at the hitch, and we all ran and pushed. The wheels hit the dip, and the trailer bounced back with all of that force and all of its weight into my leg. I thought, "Ouch, that's going to bruise," looked down, and immediately went into shock because I was not looking at a bruise.
Shock is a hell of a thing. That's a direct quote from my sister, who was leaving to go to work when this happened and whose car I was thrust into just moments after my leg had been gouged open. I picked up a t-shirt from the floor of her car, wrapped my leg up, mostly for a tourniquet, but partly so I wouldn't have to look at it any more, and proceeded to sing Taylor Swift songs at the top of my lungs until we made it to the hospital, which we fortunately live ten minutes away from. From then on, it was four hours of waiting and being shuffled to different rooms to wait. At one point, a nurse said, "Sorry, there's no room for you in the inn," and I chuckled, or just thought it was strange--I can't remember. Eventually I was stitched up (19 stitches two layers deep), and given a tetanus shot, which, after the stitches, hurt about as much as a fly landing on my arm.
I've been on crutches for several days now and have to take it easy so as not to split open the stitches, which there is a high risk of doing seeing as how EPICALLY BIG the gash was in my leg. When it was done, my sister said, "I didn't even know what they were going to stitch together. I was very impressed." She watched the whole thing and said she could see my muscle flex when I moved my foot. GROSS! There are pictures of the wound before and after stitches, but I haven't seen the before picture because it would probably make me vomit. But here's the after picture!
So, now that I can hobble around, I will finish that packing I meant to do on Monday and hopefully head up to Wisconsin tomorrow.
Until next time, friends. Stay safe, and don't do stupid things!
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