I’m Not Clumsy, I Just Live a Dangerous Lifestyle, Godammit.

I’m sitting here watching blood seep out of my index finger.  I sliced it open this afternoon while cutting lemons (and yes, it stung as much as you would expect).   It probably could have used a stitch.

But I cannot go to the emergency room in this town anymore.

Why, you ask?

Because it is a very small town, with a very small hospital, and the same doctor seems to always be working the emergency room when I need to go there.  And because I am a wild, reckless woman who likes to live life on the edge and walk the path of danger, my visits have been many.

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And as a result, said doctor thinks I’m hot for his form and that I am deliberately hurting myself to be close to him.  Strangely, the psychotic part of this delusional theory doesn’t seem to frighten him.  I kind of get the impression he finds the idea appealing, which makes him even sicker than a girl who would send herself to the emergency room on purpose in order to stalk the doctor.

The first time I met Dr. McHottiePants [not my nickname – this is what he is generally known as around town…with the women, anyway; I suspect the men call him something different], I had been playing with my scroll saw (it was an art commission thing) and despite the protective goggles, a stray piece of sawdust managed to make it in and scratch the crap out of my cornea.  Real sexy.

Not a week later, I discovered that working out a lot and not drinking enough water can lead to a kidney stone.   Dr. McHP jumped up on the bed with me and scooched up close.  Putting his arm around me, said in what I think he thought was a schmexy voice, “Drea…we have to stop meeting like this.”  I recoiled.  NOT the way you want someone to behave who has just been handed a cup of your urine.  Seriously.  Ew.  Again, real sexy.

After this, there was another sliced finger incident, and another time, a pulled tendon.

There is nothing sexier than a chick with a faceful of road rash.

There is nothing sexier than a chick with a faceful of road rash.

The capper was the night I stumbled in, barefoot, with a completely shattered arm and wrist after taking a bit of a tumble (completely sober, I swear to god).  In the car on the way to the hospital, I was chanting my mantra, “Please don’t let it be McHP, please don’t let it be McHP…”  And who do you think it was?  Of course.  And this time, he not only gets me in a bed, but gets to render me unconscious in order to set the bones.  (Doesn’t that sound x-rated?)

 

Of course, the benefit of having an emergency room doctor who likes to flirt with you is that they make sure your cast matches your pretty pink dress.

Anyway, my cut today took hours to stop bleeding, but it finally did.  And now, I’ve just noticed that there is blood all over my hand again.  But I’m not going to the hospital.

I’m pretty sure I saw a sewing kit around here somewhere.

Published in: on January 28, 2009 at 2:09 am  Comments (8)  
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8 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Hahahaha 🙂 Is it OK with you if I imagine Dr. McHottiePants to look like Michael J. Fox? But with a moustache and a large gut? I’m going to do that.

    Oh, and he also doesn’t wash himself.

    Good luck with that finger. At least you didn’t cut it with your scroll saw, whatever that may be (for making old-fashioned scrolls to be read in town squares?)

  2. Your description is bang-on. It IS BW, you know. Stinky guys with ‘staches and beer guts are considered quite a catch around these parts.

  3. In BW, you should be so lucky to score a guy with a ‘stache and gut. Hey, wait, this isn’t the guy who stalks you in your driveway in the wee hours is it?

    You would think with all the major accidents that happen to ya, the universe would cut you a little slack and have Dr. McDroopypants on, or whatever they call the old doctors who must work there.

    I can relate to your kidney stone story oddly enough. You’ve brought back my own sexy memories of never being more than 10 feet away from a bathroom and when the inevitable sexy exit finally happened, wondering how a tiny piece of molten lave had become lodged in my abdomen.

  4. LOL
    Whew, that was painfully funny.
    It’s a good thing you have a “healing” sense of humor or you’d have to move to a bigger town with more medical options than “Dr. McHP”!

  5. What I want to know is – where are the pictures of the finger???

  6. Chad: See Bryce’s comment. (I told you.)

    Bryce: Glad to see your memories of home haven’t been tainted. And no, this one doesn’t hang out in my driveway. That (those) has (have) been taken care of. *evil chuckle*

    Lea: I have a feeling my freak magnet works just as well regardless of where I live.

    YTLB1: You saw the finger this morning, for heaven’s sake. If you want, I could post pics of my busted arm with the pins sticking out of it again?

    Of course, the finger looks much better now, because when I went home, I SuperGlued it shut. A lot of people don’t know this little trick, but it’s a very efficient alternative to proper medical care.

  7. […] Although, I have to say:  Canada is the greatest country on Earth, because I've been to the hospital dozens of times in the past three years and all they ever say is 'You should renew your card when you get home.'  […]

  8. I’ve been told im very clumsy every time i get up i end up falling/tripping/running into something/etc. so i can relate to this other than the doctor thing… im not that old yet to drive.. im 13 but i still have broken limbs and sprained a lot of things i have bruises on my knees.. and scars there also.. i guess you could say… im one clumsy girl. haha. thanks for listening to my story.(:


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