Well, hmmm… Where to start? Lately work has been slow. VERY slow. Pennies in the bank account slow. So i decided to try to pick up some new contract work with Aquent, a creative temp agency. I interviewed with a place Monday. I found out i got a two week gig starting Thursday – yesterday. I went in yesterday and the place was great. Really nice people, they do really great work. I was a bit bummed to not be in my studio, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right? So this morning i woke up in a great mood, and got dressed, packed a lunch and got my coffee. Then I went down the stairs. Well, then i started to go down the stairs. Except I tripped. And for a moment thought I was going down a full flight of cement stairs. Hard. But luckily my finger took one for the team. My poor ring finger dove out and valiantly grabbed a rung on the stairs. One little finger grabbed on for dear life, risking life and, well…finger. No thanks to middle, index and inky, i was able to regain just enough footing to catch myself. “Ow! I thought. That hurt like a b*tch!” Then I went to console my brave, courageous ring finger. And um. Well. It was not good. Poor ring-y was all askew. Crooked and sad. And within a few moments screaming in pain. Ring-y had gotten dislocated and was way out of wack. So i did what any person starting a brand new job and has no insurance did. I started cussing like a damned sailor! Then i called BEST BOYFRIEND EVER who had just left 5 minutes ago. I called 5 times before he picked up. He was it seems at the Quickie Mart getting a donut. He was on his way back. Then the pain strted. Oh the pain. And for a woman that thinks drugs that stop pain are a perfect reason to know there is a God and never felt one bit of labor for my daughter, well, I well, am a big ol’ baby.
And I don’t have insurance. So i thought it might be cheaper to go to a doc in the box instead of the hospital. But it was 8:30am and they didn’t open until 9am. So I sat outside and waited. And grimaced and laughed at my stupid luck. Actually feeling lucky that it was mt left hand. While i can’t play my beloved piano* for a good long while, I CAN mouse click and PAINT. So i am very luckily. (And on a side note, one handed typing sucks!) Anyhoo…Doogie Houser who was working at the Urgent Care took a horrified look at my twisted finger and sent me to an ER. Damn! I heard the cha ching of money…So at the ER they took an xray and after an hour the doctor came and said that it was not dislocated. To which I said, “Huh? But it’s all crooked-y!!” To which she said, “Yeah, that is what I thought too, but your knuckle is not what it making it crooked, the broken twisted bone is. So I have to set it.” To which I said, “Blink….blink….blink…:” Then I said, ” Yeah, since I am already paying a fortune, why don’t you inject some more of that there numbing stuff in, cause I don’t want to feel JACK up to my elbow!” And she did! Then she PULLED my poor finger, then TWISTED my poor finger, then PULLED again. I felt the bones pop back into place. ICK. And that my friends is how in just one day on the job you get your boss to email you files to work from home to have done on Moday. Pretty clever of me, huh?
* I don’t play the piano, never have and have sworn an oath to a college music professor to never pick up an instrument ever again so he would pass me with a C.**
**Yes, that is a true story.