Sweet Jesus, if I make it through this year alive it will be a miracle.
I ran in my really high heels today...we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose (don't ask...Tennessee requires physical movement of high schoolers) and I discovered that I can't corner very well in them. Despite all of the potential ways that I could have rendered myself cripple, THAT did not cause my injury.
Changing a light bulb did.
We were putting new bulbs* in some fixtures in the theater. This requires the climbing of a 25 foot ladder, thankyouverymuch. I have never gone more than 12 feet or so up it...I just get queasy when I'm on a ladder, but Isaac didn't know how to change these bulbs and I've never actually done it, either, so I figured that I might as well suck it up and just conquer my fears (as Sam would say) and headed up said ladder to help Isaac figure out how to change the bulb. We'd already done the 1000 watt fixtures. This was a mere 500. Smaller bulb, same mechanism.
The bulbs are halogen, so you can't touch them with your skin--have to have them wrapped in foam. I was about two feet below Isaac on the other side of the ladder making sure he didn't have trouble. As he was putting the bulb in, I said, "Make sure it's turned off." Someone went to the light board to check it, but before they had it off, he put the bulb in.
500 watts + foam=smoke.
He yelled, "Turn it off!" about the time the smoke started billowing out of the socket. He jerked his hand back because he'd been holding the foam, which melted. I was looking up the whole time and the hot, partially melted foam came straight down and landed on my face...the melty part concentrating itself on my eye. Thankfully, it was on the inner corner and up closer to my eyebrow. At first I thought it had burned my entire eyelid.
Picture this if you will: Me, standing on a 25 foot ladder--about 23 feet or so in the air. Wearing 4" wedge heels (yeah, this was a terrible idea and will never be repeated). With smoking hot foam in my face. I? Did not say a curse word. You can rest assured that I thought one, though.
I batted the stupid foam to the floor and Isaac and I both recovered on the ladder before trying to go down. He was insistant that he get the thing put back together before we stopped, so we got it. I held my eye closed the whole time. I told some girls to go get me a 'piece of ice'.
As I was climbing down the ladder, I saw Taylor burst through the door with a sack of ice you could have cooled a keg in. It was quite funny. I took a piece out and made Isaac use it for his thumb. Minor burn, no blister at the time. Hopefully he'll be well.
Foam smells to high heaven when it burns, ftr.
I have a reddish spot on my eye--not bad. It's still uncomfortable, but not painful really. I am just glad I cut my hair...my old bangs would probably have gone up in smoke.
*for theater-types, I know that the bulbs are really called lamps. It's just less confusing this way.
I ran in my really high heels today...we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose (don't ask...Tennessee requires physical movement of high schoolers) and I discovered that I can't corner very well in them. Despite all of the potential ways that I could have rendered myself cripple, THAT did not cause my injury.
Changing a light bulb did.
We were putting new bulbs* in some fixtures in the theater. This requires the climbing of a 25 foot ladder, thankyouverymuch. I have never gone more than 12 feet or so up it...I just get queasy when I'm on a ladder, but Isaac didn't know how to change these bulbs and I've never actually done it, either, so I figured that I might as well suck it up and just conquer my fears (as Sam would say) and headed up said ladder to help Isaac figure out how to change the bulb. We'd already done the 1000 watt fixtures. This was a mere 500. Smaller bulb, same mechanism.
The bulbs are halogen, so you can't touch them with your skin--have to have them wrapped in foam. I was about two feet below Isaac on the other side of the ladder making sure he didn't have trouble. As he was putting the bulb in, I said, "Make sure it's turned off." Someone went to the light board to check it, but before they had it off, he put the bulb in.
500 watts + foam=smoke.
He yelled, "Turn it off!" about the time the smoke started billowing out of the socket. He jerked his hand back because he'd been holding the foam, which melted. I was looking up the whole time and the hot, partially melted foam came straight down and landed on my face...the melty part concentrating itself on my eye. Thankfully, it was on the inner corner and up closer to my eyebrow. At first I thought it had burned my entire eyelid.
Picture this if you will: Me, standing on a 25 foot ladder--about 23 feet or so in the air. Wearing 4" wedge heels (yeah, this was a terrible idea and will never be repeated). With smoking hot foam in my face. I? Did not say a curse word. You can rest assured that I thought one, though.
I batted the stupid foam to the floor and Isaac and I both recovered on the ladder before trying to go down. He was insistant that he get the thing put back together before we stopped, so we got it. I held my eye closed the whole time. I told some girls to go get me a 'piece of ice'.
As I was climbing down the ladder, I saw Taylor burst through the door with a sack of ice you could have cooled a keg in. It was quite funny. I took a piece out and made Isaac use it for his thumb. Minor burn, no blister at the time. Hopefully he'll be well.
Foam smells to high heaven when it burns, ftr.
I have a reddish spot on my eye--not bad. It's still uncomfortable, but not painful really. I am just glad I cut my hair...my old bangs would probably have gone up in smoke.
*for theater-types, I know that the bulbs are really called lamps. It's just less confusing this way.
Labels: dumb shit I do, pain in general, teaching, work stuff
1. I'm tired of being tired.
2. I have strained my left tricep. I'm beginning to think that this whole exercise thing is just too dangerous for some people.
3. I love biscuits.
4. I also love lima beans.
5. And meatloaf.
6. Stupidity really makes my head hurt lately.
7. I do not feel 39 at all.
8. I wish it was NFL time. Basketball sucks.
9. One of my couch cushions is noticeably cleaner than the others. I wonder if that Resolve upholstery cleaner is any good?
10. We had a cow slaughtered and processed- $196 for 585 pounds of beef. That is .34 per pound--steaks, roasts, and loads of ground beef. Guess what we'll be eating this spring and summer? I've been paying $2.00+ per pound for ground round.
11. I have fifty dollars in my cash stash drawer. This is pathetic, but I cannot remember the last time that I intentionally set aside cash to have for miscellaneous purposes. I'm soooo bad with money. This fifty makes me feel very happy. I'm putting ten bucks per week in the drawer. I think I will use it to buy myself a new swimsuit. Or some really great spring/summer shoes. Or to pay school fees for next year. Ugh. Kids are so expensive.
12. Our school has a new dress code next year--the kids have to wear solid shirts w/ a collar in one of six colors--navy and white are the county-wide colors and then our school added light blue, red, black and pink. Naturally we have approximately five shirts between three kids that will meet these regulations. I imagine part of #11 will also be used to purchase school shirts. I'm conflicted about this--I like the idea of being able to dress them easier and in the long run, it will make life easier because we won't have so many clothes, but I also hate the idea of seeing nothing but blue and red and the occassional pink. It's going to be weird.
13. My parents' 41st anniversary is coming up and I want to send them something because I never do. I'm thinking about an edible fruit bouquet, but they're sort of pricey and my mother could make one of them on her own for far less and that nags at the one frugal bone I have. But the idea of presents is to splurge on a treat, right? Ugh. I don't know.
14. I cannot believe that The Closer won't start new episodes until frigging JULY. Pisses me off.
2. I have strained my left tricep. I'm beginning to think that this whole exercise thing is just too dangerous for some people.
3. I love biscuits.
4. I also love lima beans.
5. And meatloaf.
6. Stupidity really makes my head hurt lately.
7. I do not feel 39 at all.
8. I wish it was NFL time. Basketball sucks.
9. One of my couch cushions is noticeably cleaner than the others. I wonder if that Resolve upholstery cleaner is any good?
10. We had a cow slaughtered and processed- $196 for 585 pounds of beef. That is .34 per pound--steaks, roasts, and loads of ground beef. Guess what we'll be eating this spring and summer? I've been paying $2.00+ per pound for ground round.
11. I have fifty dollars in my cash stash drawer. This is pathetic, but I cannot remember the last time that I intentionally set aside cash to have for miscellaneous purposes. I'm soooo bad with money. This fifty makes me feel very happy. I'm putting ten bucks per week in the drawer. I think I will use it to buy myself a new swimsuit. Or some really great spring/summer shoes. Or to pay school fees for next year. Ugh. Kids are so expensive.
12. Our school has a new dress code next year--the kids have to wear solid shirts w/ a collar in one of six colors--navy and white are the county-wide colors and then our school added light blue, red, black and pink. Naturally we have approximately five shirts between three kids that will meet these regulations. I imagine part of #11 will also be used to purchase school shirts. I'm conflicted about this--I like the idea of being able to dress them easier and in the long run, it will make life easier because we won't have so many clothes, but I also hate the idea of seeing nothing but blue and red and the occassional pink. It's going to be weird.
13. My parents' 41st anniversary is coming up and I want to send them something because I never do. I'm thinking about an edible fruit bouquet, but they're sort of pricey and my mother could make one of them on her own for far less and that nags at the one frugal bone I have. But the idea of presents is to splurge on a treat, right? Ugh. I don't know.
14. I cannot believe that The Closer won't start new episodes until frigging JULY. Pisses me off.
Labels: food, my life, pain in general, physical exertion, ramble, who doesn't love a list
Back to the Y tonight for my favorite muscle sculpting class. Lighter weights, lots of reps. One hour. I've not been to it since November and right now? I feel every 'muscle' in my body screaming. Getting old and decrepit just really SUCKS.
Labels: pain in general, physical exertion
Well, he's greatly reduced, anyway. The doctor took pity on me today and let me walk-in. He was suitably impressed with the size and depth of Homer--he compared it to a small child--and promptly had me on the table and proceeded to numb it, then drain it and then shoot the empty cavern full of cortisone. Nikki the Nurse wrapped me with a compression bandage that I have to leave on for 24 hours (it is bugging to no end right now because the velcro is pokey). There is still a little bit of fluid in there, but hopefully this will take care of him. I go back to see the doctor on the 31st and hopefully Homer will be a distant memory.
Labels: my life, pain in general
The unfortunate, disgusting, egg-sized hematoma that has taken up residence on the back of my knee;
This was taken on December 29, so I still had stitches and quite a bit of swelling around the actual knot. It looks less scabby now and the bruising that you can sort of see on the lower right and swelling that is all around the top left are gone. Homer is much more red now for some reason (I suppose because of all the blood that's under there?) and is mushier sometimes. Other times, he's rock-hard and really sore. 
The ortho says that it can take two weeks (which would be Thursday) or so to diminish. I can't imagine how it will be gone by then.
Homer is my body's way of reacting to the removal of a Baker's cyst that was evidently quite large. I had six stiches to close the incision, and that is, from all I've been told, a big ass incision for a Baker's cyst. Lucky me, right? The only upside is the lovely Demerol. I'm down to one dose a day now--just at night or after lots of walking and bending. Sitting at my desk all day today really did a number on him--Homer doesn't like being crushed when I cross my legs or sit with them bent, but he likes to wait and remind me of that two or three hours later when he grips my leg in paralyzing spasms and throbbing pain when I walk. He calls in all his fluid friends and they have a party around my kneecap. Good times, good times...I just invite Demerol and plant myself on the couch.
Now, admit it--you came to the blog purely out of morbid curiousity. Reveal yourself in the comments if you aren't too grossed out by the image.
Labels: narcotics, pain in general, pictures, whine
misc. thing spewing from my brain
6 Comments Published by Kimmah on Sunday, July 01, 2007 at 9:49 PM.
the percocet haze--it's an interesting thing.
- my recovery from this surgery has been ridiculously easy--i feel sort of stupid even saying i've had surgery because there is really not that much pain or swelling. i've used crutches only once so far and that was after PT. i'm still bruised, the teeniest bit swollen, and stiff, but really, nothing bad. i took a pain pill tonight because for some reason i thought it made sense to wear 3+inch wedge heels to dinner (probably would have been okay) and then to wal mart. achey, but still not horrible. and the meds dull the pain, yes they do.
- wtf is the point of a skort exactly? i bought one tonight because it was cute and almost knee-length (i have thigh issues) and i thought it was a good alternative to wearing shorts for inservice and the like, but i'm really confused. why the shorts-under-a-skirt? you can't even see the shorts part (i wouldn't have bought it if you could). the front and the back look like a skirt..see here:
see? no visible skort markings on the front and none on the back, either. just random shorts underneath. WHY? i guess i can climb a ladder when at work without fear of flashing. - i'm going to meet with a trainer at the Y tomorrow (was supposed to go friday, but rescheduled it) and i'm determined to take what he says and turn it into my july-obsession.
- i find that i enjoy britain's next top model much more than i do the american version...and i just realized that the presenter (i have no clue what her name is) sounds just like my one of my favorite chicks from the bbc's version of trading spaces--changing rooms. i can't remember her name either--the blonde one who also does home invaders or what every that show is.
- i really like lush's aqua marine face cleanser. a lot. i'm almost done with my sample and i shudder to think how much that's going to set me back when i get ready to purchase a full-sized portion. *shakes imaginary fist at frisque and other lushies for piquing my interest*.
- getting and maintaining a tan takes far more effort than i really ever want to put into my appearance. ditto with getting defined arm muscles, come to think of it.
- i wore a white headband swimming yesterday and when i came home and took it off, it had red blotches on it from my hair color. that is troublesome, to say the least. guess i'll be coloring on a more regular basis during chlorine season, eh?
- o'charley's has the best damn fried mozzerella that i've had. it's expensive, yet worth it. the rest of their menu? not so much.
- i'm going to spearhead 'family yardwork day' in the morning. it should be a real sight to behold. oy.
- blogger offers up 'scooters' as a sample label title--are there really THAT many people who would use a "scooter' category?
- lucy, the blonde chick, just won bntm on my dvr. in case you care. she beat edwina. i'm so glad that my name is not edwina. or lucy for that matter.
Labels: hair stuff, narcotics, pain in general, physical exertion, ramble, television, who doesn't love a list
or should that be 'pubic' service announcement?
while undies that are constructed in the manner of pants and, as such, have a seam running down the middle of the crotch might sound like a good idea or even something you wouldn't think you'd notice, it turns out there is more to it than just another seam. not such a comfy idea. i mean, sure they LOOK really cute when you're standing up and looking in a mirror, but walking, sitting and just generally functioning? yeah, not so cute. especially if one is at work and has limited ability to adjust underwear, especially around one's girl parts.
while undies that are constructed in the manner of pants and, as such, have a seam running down the middle of the crotch might sound like a good idea or even something you wouldn't think you'd notice, it turns out there is more to it than just another seam. not such a comfy idea. i mean, sure they LOOK really cute when you're standing up and looking in a mirror, but walking, sitting and just generally functioning? yeah, not so cute. especially if one is at work and has limited ability to adjust underwear, especially around one's girl parts.
Labels: advice, announcements, pain in general
My eyes are suddenly a chlorinated mess. Been doing pool stuff since January and tonight it feels as if I bathed in acid. Waaaaaahhhhhh!
Labels: pain in general, physical exertion, whine
I'm now a card-carrying, auto-paying member of the local YMCA. This in and of itself is rather amusing since I'm fairly sure no one who knows me or just happens to see me would think, "She likes exercise", but I have accepted the fact that one cannot look like an exerciser without actually exercising. So, I go.
Just getting there is an adventure--see the Embarrassing Post below for one of many examples--because I'm not particularly good at keeping up with things such as sneakers, Y cards, gym bags and all that. I have one bag that I've used as a workout bag for years that I finally unearthed at work. It was under my desk and filled with remnants from our trip to the state fair (in September) and numerous elementary drama books that I evidently decided to move from home to school. Or something. I don't actually know where they came from or why they were in the bag. My memory is totally blank. But I found the bag, which was the important part.
I have one really bad knee and one almost-as-bad-but-not-surgically-altered-knee, so now that I've decided to be all fit and shit, I am having to be cautious when I do any sort of cardio. I'm taking water aerobics 2x per week and going to the fitness center two or three days, too. I used to be a treadmill kind of girl, but that was before the knee and everyone tells me that I need to be very careful using the treadmill since there is a lot of shock on the knee. I've done it, but not much. It did hurt a little bit, but not terribly. But the treadmill gets sort of boring, even when I get to watch the little attache television (frankly, one of the main reason I like to go to the gym at night is to watch TNT uninterrupted).
I've tried the recumbant bike (see previous post) and I like it, but I realize that I have to mix things up, so, I decided to give the ol' elliptical machine another try. Pre-surgery, I couldn't do the stupid thing because it absolutely killed my knee. Oh, and I was such a fat slug that it nearly killed me, too. I finally gave up even trying at my old gym...it was too depressing.
I vowed to try again--after all, how hard can it be? There are scads of people on the things every time I'm in there and they are all just flitting around on the things like they haven't a care in the world. So, I try since my knee is slightly better, but I quickly decide that I'm still a fat slug because that machine? It is of the devil. Satan has an entire room filled with those suckers just waiting on me in hell (on a fresh carpet of Easter grass and Legos with a soundtrack of bluegrass and rap music in the background, I'm sure). How the HELL do those perky little wenches jump up and down on the damn things like they're on trampolines or something? I can go for miles on the bike or treadmill, but on this? I think I did .5 in 10 minutes. And that was as far as I could go. I laugh at the little signs posted on each machine that says, "during peak times of 5pm to 7pm, please limit your time on this machine to 30 minutes." ROFLMAO. Okay, no problem. I'll be glad to spend 30 minutes on it--can I just stand there and watch television for 20 minutes or so?
After the whopping 10-minute workout, my thighs were burning, my calves were in knots and I was wheezing, which is always attractive and impressive in a gym setting. I realized that I didn't want to die of an asthma attack in the YMCA--even I have some pride--so, I staggered from the fitness area to my locker, dug around in my gym bag, finally found my inhaler tucked under a brush and some lotion and a plethora of flotsam left over from the fair trip and I puffed.
And then I nearly died.
Why? Well, because it had been in the bottom of my tote along with some Cheez-It crumbs. I inhaled fucking Cheez-Its into my lungs and that, my friends, burns like a sombitch. Glass shards, ricin, volcanic ash and Cheez-It crumbs. All can be lethal. It took me several minutes to recover and be able to breathe normally. After that, cardio was done for this fat girl. I decided to take my chances in the pool since there is lots of humidity that I figured would be healing on my poor, scarred lungs.
I'll be back on that damn machine come Monday because now it's a challenge--I have to be able to do better (albeit when it is not crowded in the fitness area because I don't like flailing in front of fit folks), but in the future I will use the inhaler before I step on the stupid machine...after I've checked for foreign objects, of course.
Just getting there is an adventure--see the Embarrassing Post below for one of many examples--because I'm not particularly good at keeping up with things such as sneakers, Y cards, gym bags and all that. I have one bag that I've used as a workout bag for years that I finally unearthed at work. It was under my desk and filled with remnants from our trip to the state fair (in September) and numerous elementary drama books that I evidently decided to move from home to school. Or something. I don't actually know where they came from or why they were in the bag. My memory is totally blank. But I found the bag, which was the important part.
I have one really bad knee and one almost-as-bad-but-not-surgically-altered-knee, so now that I've decided to be all fit and shit, I am having to be cautious when I do any sort of cardio. I'm taking water aerobics 2x per week and going to the fitness center two or three days, too. I used to be a treadmill kind of girl, but that was before the knee and everyone tells me that I need to be very careful using the treadmill since there is a lot of shock on the knee. I've done it, but not much. It did hurt a little bit, but not terribly. But the treadmill gets sort of boring, even when I get to watch the little attache television (frankly, one of the main reason I like to go to the gym at night is to watch TNT uninterrupted).
I've tried the recumbant bike (see previous post) and I like it, but I realize that I have to mix things up, so, I decided to give the ol' elliptical machine another try. Pre-surgery, I couldn't do the stupid thing because it absolutely killed my knee. Oh, and I was such a fat slug that it nearly killed me, too. I finally gave up even trying at my old gym...it was too depressing.
I vowed to try again--after all, how hard can it be? There are scads of people on the things every time I'm in there and they are all just flitting around on the things like they haven't a care in the world. So, I try since my knee is slightly better, but I quickly decide that I'm still a fat slug because that machine? It is of the devil. Satan has an entire room filled with those suckers just waiting on me in hell (on a fresh carpet of Easter grass and Legos with a soundtrack of bluegrass and rap music in the background, I'm sure). How the HELL do those perky little wenches jump up and down on the damn things like they're on trampolines or something? I can go for miles on the bike or treadmill, but on this? I think I did .5 in 10 minutes. And that was as far as I could go. I laugh at the little signs posted on each machine that says, "during peak times of 5pm to 7pm, please limit your time on this machine to 30 minutes." ROFLMAO. Okay, no problem. I'll be glad to spend 30 minutes on it--can I just stand there and watch television for 20 minutes or so?
After the whopping 10-minute workout, my thighs were burning, my calves were in knots and I was wheezing, which is always attractive and impressive in a gym setting. I realized that I didn't want to die of an asthma attack in the YMCA--even I have some pride--so, I staggered from the fitness area to my locker, dug around in my gym bag, finally found my inhaler tucked under a brush and some lotion and a plethora of flotsam left over from the fair trip and I puffed.
And then I nearly died.
Why? Well, because it had been in the bottom of my tote along with some Cheez-It crumbs. I inhaled fucking Cheez-Its into my lungs and that, my friends, burns like a sombitch. Glass shards, ricin, volcanic ash and Cheez-It crumbs. All can be lethal. It took me several minutes to recover and be able to breathe normally. After that, cardio was done for this fat girl. I decided to take my chances in the pool since there is lots of humidity that I figured would be healing on my poor, scarred lungs.
I'll be back on that damn machine come Monday because now it's a challenge--I have to be able to do better (albeit when it is not crowded in the fitness area because I don't like flailing in front of fit folks), but in the future I will use the inhaler before I step on the stupid machine...after I've checked for foreign objects, of course.
Labels: fat chick stuff, pain in general, physical exertion, public humiliation
