Most people don't know this but I can stitch a wound like no other. Needle, string and all. One of my relatives was the woman they based Dr. Quinn medicine woman on- my mom repeatedly tells me the story of that ancestors life but I never listen. So, I can't tell you any more on that subject. Although, now I am curious who you, the readers, are related to.
Anyways, this weekend was full of gross and disgustingly-cool mini surgeries. And they were done all on my kitchen floor. So, at 2am, I am dancing around to Kanye West trying to get over my writers block when I hear this super loud screaming outside my condo. Would you have gone outside if you heard screams? Just curious because my sorry-butt went running out the door, all while in my Hello Kitty PJ's. I can't believe I just admitted I wear Hello Kitty attire.
The cries sound like mix of a bat and owl in a standoff- I knew immediately the guy in trouble was my bestie, Jameses. The dude is shaking in pain. He has BB gun pellet gashes all over his tatted up body and one mean bullet wound. I don't even wanna know what mischief he got into while shooting soda cans in a remote country farm.
He's crying like a baby (I'm sorry, Jameses but you really were.) So I had to dig the bullet out and dress the wound.
Then his friend- who looks like a lot like Simon Baker, lifts his shirt sleeve up and says, "Maybe you could clean this wound too. I've had it for about a week."
Could you resist a guy that looks as hott as the Mentalist? Because I so couldn't.
Jameses informs me the wound's sickening. I shrug my shoulders and grab my tools. The problem- the wound was seriously infected. The puss was green and the gash was as big as my large toe. I was beyond nervous. I've never dealt with an infection that bad.
I grabbed a wooden spoon (I resisted the urge to smack Mr. Simon, the hottie and Jameses for being complete idjuts) and placed the spoon in his mouth.
Without saying a word, I dug the infection out of the wound. I won't go into detail but let's just say there was a lot of cussing involved. And sure, I almost barfed in the process but I have to say, it was pretty cool.
Lesson learned-Not only did I score a date with Mr. Handsome but I also learned that the scary stuff is where the real growth really lies. The more you have to dig deep,the better you will be. Whatever dream you choose to pursue requires you to have no fear. Just go for it.
Update- I may have snagged Mr. Handsome's digits but the poor bloke had to be turned down. The definition of hott is pretty vast where I am concerned but I have to say that gangrene is a HUGE turn off. Plus, someone else has me totally intrigued.
9 comments:
My stomach turned over just thinking about that. I don't know how you did it!
But oh yeah, loving the date score!
wimp wit a bullet wound
thnx 4 lookin out 4 me babygirl
Okay, ew. I mean just, ew. Girl, your karma needs to take a valium. Innovative way to get a date, though!
Wow, Russo, I am seriously impressed. You are just like the heroines in the Highland romances I read. The hotty highlander gets cut with a claymore, wound gets infected, she sloshes whiskey on said wound, and proceeds to dig out the infection! Wow! I am impressed! Simon the mentalist...MMMMM...yummy! You rock!
You are awesome! I've done some hard stuff - but no bullet wounds. Wow.
Yeah, and the cute guy probably needs to be Richard Armitage, right?
We could hire someone to shoo . . . no. Never mind.
Ooooooo, maybe we could . . . Nah, you're right, Janiel. That's just a surefire recipe for turning my life into a Stephen King novel.
Great story. Is it for real? If so, maybe you should be shopping for new friends.
Palpitations & nausea at digging out wounds for me, but I admire you, truly.
I seriously doubt I am related to anyone even mildly famous. ~Mary
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