Please respect my rights

This work by Sean A. Donahue is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Sean 5 Stitches – Chair – 1

If you are squeemish, move over this post.  I’ll tell the story again some day when I am not on Rush Limbaugh Pez!

Yup, that’s what my middle toe looks like after 5 stitches in it.  Here is another gruesome pic…

Now I know you may be saying, Sean, how did you do this?

That’s a great question.

I’ve been remodelling the house lately with my girlfriend Joanna, in preparation of having my brother and sister-in-law, making an overnight appearance for the Nebraska game on October 11th.

Shelby and Ryan’s room has been the target of the weekend after the free concert for this “event”.  So Saturday, my boss Jay and our mutual good friend Keith came over and we removed the dust filled carpet and replaced it with nice laminate flooring.

They had joked since I was making some of the cuts on the circular saw that every time I would make a cut that they would check that I would have all ten fingers when I brought back the board.

I was too chicken to do some of the more intricate cuts, so at the end of Saturday we had a clean empty room and closet with new floor in it.  The goal for Sunday was to wash, and paint the room.

So Joanna and I woke up and was determined to get it done.  While I paid bills and washed the walls Joanna did her homework.  We have a new motto in the house:  “C’s equal degrees.”  I had finished washing the walls, cleaning the dust bunnies and a spare cobweb in the 12 foot high ceilings when Joanna asked me to get the paint trays.

Well they were out in the garage. So I walked over Grandma’s broken chair, past the (Insert Sponsor here for Soft Drink) cooler and got the trays.  Me and my flip flops were happy, I was in my painter’s scrubs and a crappy station t-shirt when I heard Joanna ask something and I tried to turn back as I was walking past the cooler.

Now, I was never a heisman award winning athlete.  I think that the time I spent running away from athlete’s were enough to qualify me for many of the medals during high school, but I digress.

I tripped on something, may have been the cooler and fell into the bottom of the chair.  But as I am trying to keep myself from falling I realize that I feel something scrape my toe. I cursed and continued on, picking myself up, until I took the first step.

There was a significant amount of pain.

And yes, I gashed my middle toe on my left foot.

One inch long and about a quarter inch deep.

So what do I do?  Wash it off in the tub, feeling more pain like an ice pick stuck in my toe.

So then we tried to put a band-aid on there to stop the bleeding as I tried to keep pressure on it.

Yup after 45 min of pressure and nothing but bloody hands and paper towels to show for it, painting was off as Joanna loaded me up into the truck and we headed to the emergency room.

Now there is nothing worse than sitting in a wheelchair holding a bloody towel to your toe than listeners walking up to you saying such gold mines as :

“So Sean, you hurt your foot?”

“Wish you were back at the races Sean?”

or my personal favorite…

“That looks a bit bloody for me Sean!”

After a phone call to a connection at the hospital, I was green lighted into trauma away from everyone where I could let my toe throb and bleed on its own.

Joanna and I were laughing at the person next door who was arguing so loud with the nurses all I can repeat is : (Nurse Yelling) “THE REASON YOU CAN’T HEAR IS THAT YOU HAVE A PLUG OF EAR WAX IN BOTH YOUR EARS AND THE EAR DRUMS CAN’T VIBRATE!  IT CAN’T VIBRATE!”

Then all of the sudden I felt tired, as the adrenaline started to ebb away and I crashed.

45 minutes later the nurse came in to check on me.  They were short handed and I could see on her face that it really was a pain to have me sitting there bleeding.

30 minutes later the doc came in to a line of (“Thank You Captain Obvious!”):

“So, looks like your foot is bleeding?” (TYCO!)

“Is that a bit tender?” (TYCO!)

“I don’t think that I can dermabond that because of the bleeding, you are going to definitely need stitches! (TYCO!)

Then I had my one liner of the day…

So Sean, do you remember your last Tetnus Shot?

“I think it was back in the Carter Administration!”

So five stitches, a bottle of Hydrocodone and some crutches later… I arrive home and crash.

So I still have to paint a bedroom blue, for Shelby and green,  for Ryan before this weekend.

I think I need a nap!