Sunday, April 26, 2009

Ode To Grampa

About two weeks ago, I had occaision to be thinking of my grandfather. My grandfather was an engineer and a "man's man". The ramp to the attic in his little ranch was as well thought out and overly intricate as my Mercedes coffee cup holder. He rigged a bird feeder so all he had to do was crack the kitchen window to load, fill, and deliver. This was not done because he was lazy, au contraire. His CB antena would rival a radio signal tower. It was made of bits and pieces, spare parts, and how it remained upright is the mystery of his engineering mind!! It could have taken out three rows of neighbor houses!!

Alright so what had me thinking of my grandfather? Well two weeks ago I accidentally slammed my hand down on a sharp metal piece while helping out with our home projects. I saw things come out of the rip in my hand that a person should not see unsedated! There were fat cells, some streamers of white, and lets not forget the blood. Blood that seeped into my whole sweater sleeve as I held my arm up racing to the bathroom! You would have to be a horror fan to understand my sudden fascination with the amount of blood coming out.

Luckily my husband was home with me, as I would hate for anyone to come home to the bloody handprints and small pools of blood that followed in my wake. It looked like I put up quite a struggle.

Oh, I contemplated going to the hospital, but once the blood stopped and I realized how friggin painful it was... Stitches are't so bad, it's the poking prodding, and the damn needle that would probably make me punch the nice nurse out. My grandfather, on the other hand, once had an operation on his arm where he INSISTED on staying awake. This was no mole removal, mind you, this is where they cut his arm open looking for something. Being the over the top engineer he was, he wanted to look at what made everything tick!!

I felt a little like him, as I was examing the gaping rip in my hand. It was just the fatty part of my palm, so don't worry readers no harm done except to my poor flesh. Luckily, having had an injured dog or two dumped off here, I am much less likely to get all woosey at flesh wounds, though I admit to having a moment when the blood started. Bet I have never run so fast in my life LOL.

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