Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The things I go through in the name of crafting.


This is where I was going to show you an awful photo of the finger wound:


Imagine it.  Conjure it up.  There you go.


Unfortunately, I can't.  As you know, weeks and weeks ago mini annihilated my camera.  I have been using my iphone instead.  I used it today for proof of "the things I go through in the name of crafting."  And then it died.


I don't mean the battery died.  I mean the PHONE died.  I plugged it into the computer to get the photos off... nothing.  Not a flicker.  Not a "bleep." Nada.
It has been acting quite finicky lately and it appears that what I thought was just a temper tantrum was actually death throes.  Crap.


I am now without phone or camera.  So not only do I have no way to communicate with anyone, but I also lost ALL of my pictures of ALL of my current projects.  Including my current SYTYC projects.  Awesome.  (and by awesome I mean seriously the crummiest thing ever and if I swore, I'd be doing it right now.)


Also, along the lines of no communication, I have no way to get in touch with anyone should an emergency arise.  You know, like this horrible finger wound:


Oh.  That's right.  No pictures.


So I'll just have to tell you the story.  Without too many details as that may give something away in any possible coming SYTYC weeks, if there are any for me, and I won't say one way or another since everything is supposed to be anonymous.  Jeez!  Quit pressuring me!!


I was working on a project that involved the use of a sharp implement of some sort.  My hand holding said implement "slipped" and said implement carved a nasty laceration out of my left index finger.  I said, "Oh, crap," and then went to wash it off and slap on a bandaid.  When the entire sink was flooded with my... er, blood... (is this too graphic?) I realized I had a big problem.  I called mr and asked him to please come watch the kids so I could go to the walk-in clinic.  Thank goodness mr didn't have any meetings and could work from home for the rest of the day.  I called my dad to drive me over.  Because I always call my dad when I do something stupid, like hold sharp implements toward my finger when  using a lot of force to cut something.  Or drilling my hand.  Or driving myself into a snowy ditch.  That kind of thing.  My dad arrived and took stock of the wound.  "I don't think you need stitches.  Just put a bandaid on and be careful."  So I did.


Mr arrived home and decided to stay home.  I continued on my merry way working on the aforementioned project, and perhaps stabbing myself with the aforementioned implement a few more times - though not nearly as gruesomely.  Searching for crafting materials, my wound reopened and was... er, spouting... (is this too graphic?). So I put two more bandaids over it.  Continued on.  Had to run to the store for some more crafting supplies.  Hit my hand against the cart... and my wound reopened once again, gushing (too graphic?) all over the store.  Luckily a very nice lady had a napkin and endeavored to help me.


I continued shopping.  I contemplated going to the doctor, but I had mini with me, so I drove home with some freshly purchased heavy duty bandaids and neosporin to staunch the flow of my gaping flesh.  Upon arriving home, I peeled off layers of napkin and bandaids to discover that the pad of the bottom bandaid was adhered to my wound - stuck like rice to the disgusting mutilated skin.  (Ok, now this really IS too graphic... I think I'll skip ahead.)  mr tried valiantly to hand me a bandaid without looking at me and succeeded in avoiding a fainting spell.  We both decided it was time for a doctor.


Already ridiculously long story slightly shorter than it could be... an hour and 1/2 later, I was driving home with several stitches and a bulbous bandage on my finger which I cannot get wet nor remove for 7 days.


Insert photo of big bulbous bandage here.  It's a good shot.  (If you follow me on instagram you can see it.  bugabooblog.)


Now, I'm not complaining.  (Well, I'm complaining a little.  But mostly about my stupid phone.)  I just wanted to explain why my posts may be a little scant and/or lacking in photos currently.  For one, it's really hard to type without an index finger.  Seriously.  Try it.


And two, my phone stinks.


And here is where I would show you a picture of my stinky dead phone.  Were it not, in fact, dead.





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1 comment:

the momma (aka Shannon) said...

people, i've seen the bulbous bandage. on instagram, not in person. and it's hideous. i can't imagine what lies beneath.

kim, i'm not laughing at you, i'm laughing with you.
okay. no. i'm definitely laughing at you too.
;)

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