Doucheblog

Bloody hell...

Since I was a kid, I will pick at scabs and pull at skin and Mom was always saying "you better stop that or you'll get a nice infection" oh yeah Ma, whatever... self-inflicted bleeding from time to time over a period of 27 years. Yeah uh huh it's all good. Then yesterday, I get a nice infection. I don't know why she calls it nice, but holy shit Ma, you were right. Top of the world, Ma... I had the stupid poison blood line beginning to crawl up my foot (it was started on the sole) yikes... the Dr poked around, cut it open "hmm, maybe you better go to emergency, I'm no foot surgeon" what-what-what? And then he is all "i hope they don't have to do anything dramatic" aren't Dr's supposed to say soothing things? So then I go and the nurse-guy says something like they have to pack it... whatever that means... but then the ER doc comes in and goes, oh well there is nothing to be drained because the infection has gone into the tissue. (d'oh!) And then he goes "best thing is to treat it with antibiotics" (woo-hoo!) I was just so glad he wasn't gonna numb it and cut around in it some more, it was so weird the vaguely scratchy feeling, like shouldn't this be hurting but no it's like paper is tearing or something unconnected. So anyhow he sent me packing with a prescription, crutches and a note to excuse me from work. I was worried I would end up missing the Misfits concert Saturday but so far it seems to be getting better.

So bottom line is sometimes Mom Is Right.