I was sitting at the computer just now. I sit at the computer a lot, but I think I’ll remember this session for a long while. I was filling out the online application for Social Security, which, at age 62, I am eligible for. (AMAZING)
I’d completed the process with no major hitches. I was at the point where I had to read several paragraphs carefully and hit the SUBMIT button. My tea glass was positioned just above and to the left of my keyboard as usual. Then it happened… a mosquito hove into view.
I reacted like the blood-thirsty killer I am. I extended my arms and SLAPPED with my hands. I have a great deal of experience with this particular movement, which is why I think my brain didn’t feel the need to become involved this time.
I slapped my hands together, missing the mosquito, but upsetting the tea. It sits in a spill-resistant glass for precisely this reason, but still, a fairly large amount glugged onto my desk and started sprinting across toward my important papers. (I can imagine the mosquito watched all this with amusement.)
I jumped up and started for the kitchen to grab the dishrag in order to wipe up the mess. On my way across the heating stove hearth, which has a cracked and loose corner on one of the tiles, my timing was such that the heel of my left foot came down on the pointed part of the loose corner of tile, and ripped a 2″ gash. There was copious blood.
I do not do well when several things happen at once. The spilled tea was asking to be cleaned up, my foot was bleeding, and I was standing there. Eventually, I limped over to the sink, grabbed some paper towel, and started soaking up the wound. There was a lot of soaking up to do.
Oh, and did I mention that Alice was gone for the morning? Franco, my constant friend, lifted his head up from his nap, watched me for a few seconds, and lay back down again. I was on my own.
Once the paper towel was doing it’s job, I had a moment where things were not getting progressively worse. “I think I’ll walk over and finish wiping up the tea,” I whispered to myself. I tried to take the first step and smiled out loud. It seems that it is difficult to walk when you are holding one of your feet in your hands. I tried to hop, but remember, I am a 62 year old who just applied for Social Security. I settled on the technique of cleaning my heel thoroughly with the paper towel, limping a few steps, stopping to wipe up, and then doing a few more steps. Miraculously, I remembered to bring the kitchen rag along.
I cleaned up the tea, and took a peek at the gash. Thankfully, my bare footed summer habits toughen my feet up a great deal, and the blood was slowing down a lot. “We’re going to get through this,” I thought to myself.
Get it clean and cold, I thought, so I hobbled upstairs to the bathtub, sat on the edge, and started running cold water for my foot to soak a while.
Our bathtub has a lever that directs water to either the shower or the tap. We normally keep this lever in the middle so the water will drain out of the shower pipe. It happened to be in the middle as I was sitting with my feet inside the tub. That meant that water came out the tap, and a brief moment later, out the shower head, and yes, all over my pants.
After a few minutes of soaking, my efforts were definitely staunching the flow. I grabbed my first aid kit, slapped on some triple antibiotic ointment, a large bandage, and finished it off with some adhesive tape. “This will make a good story,” I thought to myself. The rest is history.