ceviche betrayal

2007-03-14

On Monday night I went home, said hi to Francisco, changed my clothes, and asked if I could help with dinner. He said no, so I sat down with the internet, but a few minutes later he said, "Can you help with dinner after all? I just cut the shit out of my finger." I sprang up and went to inspect, and he didn't just cut his finger, he cut part of it OFF. It's the left middle finger, and as of Monday night, a good bit of the finger pad is missing. I finished dinner while he applied pressure, and it stopped bleeding while he ate dinner, but then around 8:00, a couple hours after the slicing, he took the paper towel off to try and bandage it, and it started bleeding again and wouldn't stop. I told him we were going to the emergency room, and off we went. A triage nurse inspected it and said a doctor would have to look at it, so we had to wait awhile, and then a doctor looked at it and said he would put a couple of stitches in to try and close the bleeding part of the wound. The doc had to inject a bit of anesthetic, and I guess that hurt quite a lot, but by that time I was back in the waiting room, because I was getting woozy just seeing the bloody wound. Time passed and the doctor put in a couple stitches and bandaged it, plus he put on a metal splinty thing to protect it. The doc said he'd give the splint after Francisco told him his Police class was doing hand-to-hand combat training this weekend, though he did strongly caution Francisco against punching with the left hand. I'm a bit worried about his finger and this hand-to-hand combat stuff, but I'm trying not to think about it. Anyway, this finger thing had me pretty stressed on Monday night and yesterday, but now that it's no longer oozing blood when he changes the bandage, I'm feeling less freaked. Poor Francisco; the finger is very sore and it's really hampering him. My sympathy for him is off the charts.

Another piece of bad news for the town and some people in particular: The old dairy building burned down early yesterday morning. I apparently never took a picture of just that building (though it was super cool), but you can see it in the background of this picture:

I love this truck

I loved that building and I'm sad it is no more.

But in the good news category, yesterday my goggles were delivered! I need to take a picture of myself wearing them, because I look GOOD. And by good I mean pretty silly, actually, but am I getting stuff in my eyes while they're on? NO I AM NOT. Problem solved. *dusts hands*

Our office had a potluck today. I bought 3 bags of chips (various types) and some salsa because I just couldn't be arsed to construct anything ho-made. I feasted on good rice, and some ceviche a coworker bought. It tasted good but I have to say, my bowels are starting to feel a little iffy, and the ceviche is the most likely culprit. My digestive system is weird; my stomach is rock steady, as evidenced by my being 17 1/2 years vomit-free, but my bowels are touchy as hell. I anticipate spending some quality time tonight in the bathroom. Oh, is this too much information? Tough; nobody forced you to read this.

I was going to write more, but I had to take a phone call and the person I was speaking to wanted to tell me a lot of things that are none of my business, and with which I could not help. Listening to her would have been more interesting if I wasn't trying to write an entry before the end of the day. Ah well, such is life.

Love,
E

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