How Not to End the Year - Maybe

Maybe this is a good thing. I mean, it happened at the *end* of the year, not the beginning.

At work this morning, I was flying along - the equipment was actually working the way it's supposed to, the machines were coming down the line at just the right pace, I was getting so much done so quickly and easily - and then disaster.

Hopping up to the track (a little over knee-high from the floor), I missed my step and fell onto the track. Landed on my left hand (hard) and my right knee (harder). Grumbling - okay, swearing a blue streak - I dusted myself off and climbed carefully back up to correct the *one* problem machine of the day. Finishing that, I realized my knee was wet. I looked down, puzzled because I couldn't understand where I could have put my knee down on a raspberry.

Turns out it wasn't raspberry juice and seeds - it was blood and... me. Or pieces of me, anyway. Somehow I'd managed to stab myself on a sharp corner when I fell.

At first, I figured, well, okay it looks bad but it doesn't really hurt. So I limped over to the ladies' room and started putting cold compresses on the wound - all the while bleeding like a stuck pig. Asked a lady in there to see if she could locate my boss. I figured she'd want to know about it. She came in a few minutes later and called my other boss and made me wait in the office. Finally the other boss showed up - by this time first shift had started coming in, and several people stopped in to see the show.

After that it gets a bit hazy. Still no pain, but I started feeling very light-headed. I know a lot more people seemed to be milling around in the office. I don't know how many times my blood pressure was taken - I think because they didn't believe me when I said it was always low. So it might have been a little lower than normal.

Then I'm being helped onto a gurney and whisked away in an ambulance. A dozen x-rays, 8 stitches (both inside and out), a tetanus shot and some antibiotics later, I'm allowed to leave. Good, I thought. I'd only been MIA for nearly five hours. Then I had a message to call my boss - seems for Workman's Comp, they had to have a drug screen. Within 24 hours. I decided I was glad I hadn't broken my leg, since the place I had to go was clear across town.

Then I realized - my jacket, backpack, wallet and keys (along with my truck) were still at work.

Called the boss back. Twenty minutes later, she showed up, drove me back to work where I limped across three blocks worth of building to get to my workstation and retrieve my belongings. Then three more blocks (plus one in the parking lot) to ease myself into the truck and drive over for the screening. Then the forty-minute drive home.

My question is - why do nurses feel the need to put Ace bandages on to the point of being a tourniquet? I know they wanted to keep the swelling down (a little late, but they tried) but when I got home, my lower leg was completely numb and my entire leg (other than where the wonderful Ace bandage held it hostage) was about twice its normal size. Which made it very interesting getting my *only* good-fitting pair of jeans off (which, due to blood, puncture hole and having the right leg cut up one side is now due for the garbage can).

I decided that this was definitely one time I really, really wished I didn't live alone. MB - my apologies. But a cheeseburger I don't have to stand up to prepare won this time. I got four of them to last through tomorrow...

I also discovered that when I lurch toward my dogs, they don't understand that its called limping and it means pain. They think I'm playing with them. Thank God they're small.

They should be thankful they're still breathing.

Now comes the good part - the doctor is restricting my work activity - no walking for any length of time, no standing, and no "constant" use of foot pedals. I wonder if he realizes that means I can't do my job. Period. So I may forget to bring that note to work tonight. I'll just do things a little more slowly and "elderly".

Like I said, it's probably a good thing it happened at the end of the year. If I started the New Year like this, I'd probably shoot myself...