2022 Is Heading in the Wrong Direction, and I'll Never Be Able to Staple Papers in the Same Way Again. Hello, ER, My Name is Crandall

Well, that wasn't the way Saturday was supposed to go. I was scheduled to meet with Susan James, Ellen Shelton, Kelli Sassi, Tonya Perry, and Jessie Early for a presentation online at NCTEAR. I talked with Susan early, joking on whether or not we should shower and if it would matter. She talked me into it. 

So I showered. And I slipped. I went backwards, out of the tub, onto the tile and banged my scalp on the handle of a cabinet drawer. My head was all soapy from shampoo and I immediately knew the gash was no good. I could feel it. 

I went into adrenaline mode, acting fast trying not to pass out nor lose too much blood. Shampoo out, towel immediately to apply pressure. It was a scene from Carrie. I cleaned, though, because I didn't want Edem to come home to a horror scene. Applying pressure worked, and I got dressed with one hand. I then I needed to do three things: 1) contact my NWP team to say there's an emergency, 2) send the Padlet to them so they could do their thing, and 3) call Dave Wooley to see if he could rush me to the hospital. He could. Edem pulled in right before he did, and when I came outside I'm sure he was like, "What's going on?" He rolled own his window and got updated. He then jumped out to help Dave scrape the ice off his car. 

I told Dave, "I think I'm in shock, but I'm going to hang on for you." He ran in to get a wheel chair, and then wheeled me in. Admittance was extremely fast, as was a room. The procedure, however, was a little longer, because the wound was drying and my hair was matted into it. The physician assistant was clever and made a cocktail elixir and got the hair out, all while topically numbing the gash. He was training an assistant, so I got all the vocal play-by-play, and Tunga did, too, as he came to the room from Stamford. I felt bad for him because he was there for the numbing and the staples. Yes, it makes stapling sounds. Because I'm used to the wasp stings of the psoriasis shots, I knew what to expect. Cleaning it was much worse than the staples...all six of them. 

Franken-Bry. 

The best part, though, was that Susan got her revenge. I've often taken photos she doesn't want people to see and put them in my presentations. Well, I did a selfie in the hospital and didn't she work it into the presentation in my absence. Touché. 

I think I jinxed myself, however, with my ambitious goals for January up until my 50th. Those goals will need to come after the day, as I don't think I'll be risking too much activity for little while (which is killing me and my middle-aged body)

And, I believe I will insert anti-slipping strips to the bathtub today, as I do not want a repeat performance.