What a day!

Well, my day started off just how I had planned it. I got up, went to the Y and worked out. When I got home, I made myself a sandwich and ate lunch. I then took Miller on a walk and then put him on the porch so I could start cleaning.

My mom is coming into town tomorrow, so I was trying to get the house all clean and get all of my laundry done before she got here. I started laundry and cleaned the den. I unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the bathrooms and cleaned the bedrooms and the living room. All I had left to do was put my brother's computer in the attic and put the sheets I had just washed on my bed and the bed my mom was going to sleep in. Then I was going to get in the shower and start workin on my resume and a cover letter for a job I want to apply for.

So, I am minutes away from finishing and pick Kevin's old computer up and head into the attic. I take the monitor first; no problem. I come back for the tower and then head up the ladder with the tower. Once I get into the attic, I begin to hold the tower with my hand inside the tower in the hole where the power supply used to be. I begin to walk over to the area where I am going to store the tower and my day takes a turn for the worse.

WHAM!!!!! My foot kicks a piece of ply wood and all of the sudden my foot goes into a hole and through the insulation and through the drywall. SHIT!!!!! I am laying on my side with my foot dangling through the huge hole I have just put through the ceiling when I notice that there is a lot of blood on my hand. Then I realize that my hand hurts. I sliced a 2 inch gash in my right index finger on the sheet metal on the back of the computer. Blood is gushing, so I put pressure on it and run down the ladder and start to go into the bathroom. WAIT, I just cleaned the bathroom, go into the kitchen. But, the attic stairs are in the way, so I lift them out of the way and begin to drip blood on the hardwood floors and finally make it to the kitchen sink.

At this point I am beginning to shake and feel light headed. I run coldwater over it and see the huge gash. This doesn't help my shakes or light-headedness. I grab some paper towels and wrap up my fingers and grab my cell phone. I call Ryan on his cell and home numbers. No answer, what a jerk (he makes up for it later). I calm down enough to realize that I can probably drive myself to the doctor. So I grab my keys and wallet and start out the door. WAIT, there is blood on the floor and the radio is on and I have zit medicine all over my face because I have 2 huge zits that wont go away (I am 27, when will the zits stop!!!!). So, I go wipe up the blood on the floor, turn off the radio, and wash my face to get the zit medicine off. I feel a little bit better abut my appearance now that the zit medicine is gone although I am sweating like a dog and wearing gym shorts and the same t-shirt I worked out in. I smelled pretty good.

So I head to the Doc-in-a-box near the Kroger. On my way I leave Morgan a voicemail letting her know that I am on my way to get stitches. I pull into the Doc-in-a-box and the sign says they are open to 6 on Sundays. Maybe my luck is changing, it is only 3:50. I park and head to the door and as I get closer I realize that it looks dark inside. Then I see the hand-written note that is taped inside the door that says they had to close early today, sorry. DAMNIT, this means I have to go to the ER.

Dekalb Medical is just around the corner so I go to the ER. ER's on the weekend are NOT the model of efficiency, but I think that I might get expedited because I am coming in with a bloody paper towel. WRONG!

I walk in and they ask me to fill out a form. Well, since I sliced the index finger on my writing hand I ask if they can fill it out. The nurse reluctantly agrees to. She gets my name and address and that is it.

I go sit down. It is 4:05. At 4:10 they call for 'Kay'. I assume it is me (Hay) and walk up to the counter. It was me that they were calling, but they had my name wrong. I explain to the nurse that it is H A Y and she says 'Well the form is wrong, it says K A Y' like I had filled it out wrong. So they tell me they have to fix it and reprint the form before they can triage me. They sit me down in the triage area and go back to the computer to fix it. She comes back a moment later with the form and shows it to me... KHAY. No, it is HAY. So, she goes back to the computer and reprints everything and brings it back to me...KAY. No, it is Hay, H A Y like for horses. Do you want to see my drivers license? They finally get it right and they take my temperature and blood pressure. The nurse removes the paper towel from my finger and then covers it back up with my paper towel and then hands the paperwork to me and tells me to go down the hall to FASTRACK.

Yeehaw, I am getting Fastracked. That must mean it will go fast. WRONG again. I get to Fastrack and hand the nurse my paperwork and she looks at the cut and then covers it up with the papertowel that I came in with again and then asks me to sit in the waiting room.

It is now 4:15. I sit and sit and sit. I hear a lady threaten to kick her kids asses if they misbehave once again. Then a lady with a baby that is crying comes into the waiting room. Finally the baby stops crying. Then the kids that were threatened begin to argue and scream The lady with the baby politely asks them to be quiet because her baby is asleep and the baby hasn't been asleep for 3 days. Oh, no she didn't. The mother who threatened to kick her kids asses, then lays into the mother with the baby. 'Don't you tell my kids what to do...' It quickly turns into a welfare bitching session and both ladies are cussing at each other, the baby is now awake and crying and the kids are fighting and screaming. Calgon, take me away.

Finally the nurse calls my name. It is 5:20. She takes me into a room and gets more information from me, my insurance card, my credit card, and my drivers license. She then sends me back to the waiting area. About ten minutes later she comes back out to me and asks me to sign my credit card slip and my consent form. Then she hands me a sheet of paper that says my name and patient number and says 'Admission process completed'. Are you kidding me? I have been in the ER for over 1.5 hours and all I have to show for it is a sheet of paper that says all my paperwork is complete.

Another hour goes by and I watch more and more people come and go. ER waiting rooms are an interesting place to watch people. At 6:30 they call me back. A numb finger with 8 stitches and 30 minutes later and I am finally walking out of the ER with Ryan (Ryan showed up right after I got called back and sat in there while I got stitched up. Told you he made it up to me.).

Ryan and I head to the pharmacy to get some supplies (bandages and such) and then to BK so I can get a whopper for dinner. I eat the whopper while Ryan takes Miller on a quick walk. Then Ryan helps me duct tape the sheetrook back in place and helps me sweep up. At some point in the cleaning up process, I go to throw something away and realize that there is pipe leaking under the sink. Ryan graciously cleans up the water and fixes the pipe and helps me clean up the drywall mess then he heads home (Thanks again Ryan for all of your help!!!).

I then finish vacuming and straightening the house and am about to get in the shower when the drywall tape jop falls apart. I cut all the drywall down and then clean the floor again. I take a shower (with a glove taped over my right hand) and then finish folding the laundry and put the sheets on my bed so I can go to sleep (my mom is going to have to put her own sheets on tomorrow).

So that was my day. It is very hard to type without using my right index finger, but I am figuring it out and the pain is worth getting all of this onto my blog.

A couple of questions to ponder:

I have never been one to ask 'why do bad things happen to good people?' but this is one of those days when I wonder that. I normally stop wondering that real quick and begin to focus on the opposite of that question 'why do good things happen to bad people?'

And was my falling through the ceiling God's way of telling me to not apply for this job?

Things that make you go hmmmmmm....