Blunders and Bodies and Blood, Oh My!

The last few days have been much like a bad movie, and unfortunately I've been the main character. The happenings have had all the markings of a B-movie except the nearly naked sorority girl running through the woods or ditzily going into the basement with no exit, you know the type - unless you count me when I'm sleeping... then I am indeed a nearly naked former sorority girl, but I don't think I'd make it in Hollywood. Or Vancouver, or wherever really bad movies are filmed nowadays.

Let's see... first you've got the bad cold/flu/allergies thing that hit me like a ton of bricks on Tuesday night. My sinuses clogged up and the sneezing started around 7:00. By Wednesday morning my head felt like it was in a vice and I was really miserable. I went to work anyway, and made it through the whole day. That night I was in bad shape and the man was kind enough to go out and get me a plethora of drug store remedies and a piece of carrot cake. He really is the most thoughtful man and I love him for it. I stayed home yesterday and just tried to get better.

That's where the next chapter in B-movie horror comes in. I brought back a dozen bagels from Brooklyn last weekend. I wanted to slice them and put them in the freezer so we could have lovely little New York treats whenever we wanted. Great idea, right? Well, not great idea when you're hopped up on cold medicine and are rather drowsy. You see, drowsiness and sharp, serrated knives don't mix well. So easy to see that now, hindsight is always 20/20... I was cutting the 4th one and the knife slipped and I knicked my palm just enough to see a thin, crimson line form in the telltale shape of a tiny cut. Deciding that I really needed to pay attention and be careful, I took the next bagel into my hand and proceeded to rake the knife right over the top of my left thumb. The blood was instant, the shock was, too. I grabbed my thumb with my right hand, held it tightly over my head and searched desperately all over the house for band-aids (which I later found in my sewing box - why? who knows). I couldn't find them, and at this point I could feel drops of blood falling onto my hair. Gross. I applied as much pressure as I could for as long as I could (I think I was really just hesitant to see how badly I'd cut myself - you know how when you do something bad to yourself you almost don't want to look because then it's totally real and you have to deal with it? That was me) and I fashioned a bandage out of a couple cotton squares that I use to take my nail polish off and some painter's tape. It worked very well, I must say. I then reluctantly went back to the scene of the crime and wiped the blood off the floor and the faucet and the knife and the counter - it was grisly. Looked like I'd been cleaning fish in there or something.

All that happened while I was home alone. No boyfriend, no dog, just accident prone drugged out me. The man was at work and the dog was at the vet. The dog - that's another story. Duke got neutered last week. No more big old saggy dog balls - can't say I miss them. Well, Wednesday night when I was feeling awful and the man was at the store getting my drug store supplies I noticed that Duke's now empty scrotum was very swollen. And I mean very swollen. He was fine when I left that morning and now his poor little doggy ballsack was HUGE. Not good, sir. Not good. He was acting normal and jumping around like usual, feeling no pain, or at least not showing it. But, this is the dog who was found on the side of the road with a broken leg and a disloctated hip and he still wasn't all that irritable - Duke the Wonder Dog. I called the man immediately in a panic, as I'm prone to do, and he very calmly told me (as he's prone to do) to call the vet and see what they say. I had to leave a message because it was after hours, but the doctor called back a bit later and said to bring him in the next morning. The man took him in yesterday and they drained the fluid and monitored him overnight. I just spoke to the man and the vet wants to keep Duke overnight again just to make sure it's not a recurring problem, but that he's doing fine, as perky as ever, and we can pick him up tomorrow afternoon. I miss that dog. I just want him to be OK and come home.
Speaking of home, home as you probably know by now, is not in the best area. I was watching the news yesterday morning after the man had taken Duke to the vet and heard that police had found a woman's badly beaten body in a dumpster about 10 blocks from our house. Nice, eh? EH?? Again - not good sir. Not good. Turns out the woman's sone had decided he hated her and had beaten her to death. He confessed on camera and everything. It was gruesome to watch him say the words. He described how he hated her and even though he "came out of her" that she wasn't his mother and he "just stomped on her throat until she died". Horrible. Now, I know full well that this sort of thing happens all over the world and that it's not unique to Miami, but the fact that this was so close to our house and that it comes not a month after there was a shooting across the street from where this dumpster was located is disturbing. I'm so glad the house is on the market. We've got to get out of here.

Since we've got to get out of here we have to clean the house and pack up a bunch of stuff this weekend so we can show it to people. The man's friend who is our real estate agent has already gotten 4 calls about the place - which is an excellent sign. I'm hoping that the interest pans out to something real. I'm going to try not to cut myself on anything and not watch the news. That's my weekend plan so far. Sounds like a good one. Oy vey.