Monday, June 11, 2007
Saturday night, while we were at Tom's welcome home party, the top of my ring finger on my left hand was steadily swelling and throbbing. Sunday morning, it was oozing. Sorry to be so graphic but it was. My husband seemed convinced that I was near death with a staph infection. Yesterday, the finger was not much better so it was off to see a doctor - a new one - who is a hoot. He walked into the examining room drinking a Pepsi. When I took the bandage off to show him my finger, he said "yep, you have an infection of the nail bed. It's called a paronychia. JEEZ! Whaddya doin'? Don't put the bandage back on! It's filthy!" Then he asked who recommended me to him and when I told him he was all "Oh, yeah. I know her." And then "So, your parents. Dead or alive?"




"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

See? I told you he was a hoot. I didn't want to like him. Really, I didn't but he was easy on the eyes and since I don't have any health problems what's there to get all worked up over? He's lived in our neighborhood for 25 years and "lemme tell ya, the neighborhood was different back then." He reminded me a lot of a doctor our family used when I was in junior high school. Dr. E would smoke in his office and knock back Coca-Cola and potato chips for lunch. He was the doctor that said "WOW. That's really bad." when I had tonsillitus.

So, in all this, I've determined that the infection is probably from gardening and I will need to either replace my gardening gloves or somehow disinfect them or just let the place grow over with weeds.

And who do I blame for these gardening woes? Why the squirrel, of course. If it wasn't for him, I'd be spending half as much time in the dirt fixing what he destroys, digs up or otherwise ruins. Yesterday, right after picking up my antibiotics I found myself on the patio doing exactly what made me sick in the first place: replanting some of the basil that the little fucker dug up. Have you ever tried to replant basil with one hand while a two year old is by your side repeatedly asking you "Mama? What you doing?" Try it. You, too, might need a drink afterwards. And Purell.

And, while doing a search for "finger" on the internet, I found this, a page on Fingerbootyology, which is the science of making your finger look like an ass.


Anonymous Mom said...

This doc sounds like our old Doc who is DEAD......He sounds like a real rip.
Hope your finger is better.
You and this squirrel are pissers, and again you are too funny. I'm not being sarcastic or angry, or upset, but i seem to find out more information from "my little blogger" on her blog every day than when i speak to you. Is this what my life has come to? Reading about you, John & my babies instead of speaking to a real voice? OOPs..i forgot, i spoke to you and Soph last night. Don't be offended. I love you and yours very much.


Blogger Andie said...

WOW, I hope your finger is doing better. Sorry to hear about your boo-boo. As for the squirrel, get a bb gun and target practice! Yea, I said mom has a huge squirrel problem too. They chewed thru like 3 of the gas lines on the bbq. Now, she just moved it into the garage.

Blogger CatMar said...

Sorry to hear about your sick finger. You really have to do something about that pesty squirrel.

Post a Comment

<< Home