RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) So I got to call 911 for the 6TH time at the church last Sunday! They don't even ask me my mane anymore. Soon, they are going to install a big, red button next to my desk that patches me right into the system.

One of our elderly ladies, who has some balance issues, fell while trying to walk between two pews and her cane tripped her. At least I think that's what happened. I was in the room, but was behind the sound equipment so I only heard the commotion. When I looked up, a bunch of people had surrounded her, and so I hung back until I heard someone say "She needs an ambulance!" So I jumped up, told them I'd call, and did the thing. Thankfully I'm an old pro at it by now, so I knew what to tell them. They had me go back (I'd been in the lobby so I could hear better) and sit by her so I could answer some questions. 

When an old person falls, usually my guess is that they are going to hurt a limb, or their back, or maybe break a hip. This lady had done none of those things. She was laying in a pool of blood. One of our deacons had a cloth pressed to the back of her head, but the blood had spread in a big pool under her head. She'd clipped the edge of the pew when she went down, and damn, scalp lacerations are no joke. 

She was lucid and not in much pain. Other than the bleeding, she said she was OK. Of course, when you're 85 years old and you hit your head, you never know. I sat next to her and made a few jokes to keep things from being too serious, and the EMTs finally showed up. They checked her out, and it didn't look like she was in any immediate danger, so they got her into a wheelchair and got her to the ambulance. I'd had to call the lady's daughter, and I have no idea if I was comforting or alarming, because adrenaline hit me like a ton of bricks when I went into "HELP THE OLD LADY" mode. 

Once she was out of the way, I shooed the looky-loos away and told them I'd clean up. That is part of my job, after all. There was a lot of blood. A. Lot. Of. Blood. More blood than I'd ever seen outside of the human body before. Thankfully, blood doesn't bother me, but it was still gruesome to have to carry out an armload of bloody towels in front of the entire congregation. When I woke up that morning, I hadn't imagined that I'd spend the first part of the day wrist deep in an old lady's blood. I didn't have any gloves, to which one of our church members helpfully pointed out that I needed them because this was, and I quote, "A bye-yo hazard." All I could do was promise I wouldn't lick my fingers. I did find out later I had a cut on my hand, so who knows how that will end up. I hope that lady doesn't have anything communicable.

I felt like Lady Macbeth the rest of the day. I still don't know if my hands are really clean yet, even though I scrubbed them. 

The lady is fine, by the way. She's a tough old bird. She called and said they'd put seven staples in her scalp, and she's staying with family until she gets better.

2) I deleted what I wrote here, because I forgot I wasn't going to say anything else about it. I'm too lazy to renumber. Everything still sucks, though. I hate every minute of it.

3) I found another pair of the giant underpants in the laundry, again. This is getting stupid! I know I washed and folded them all by this point, and there was no reason for them to be in the laundry four months after the fact! If it was a joke, Steve wouldn't let it go on this long. I think I'm going to have to burn them, or bring them to church and bury them under one of the shrubs. If I find one more pair in a place where they shouldn't be, I'm taking them to the closest priest and having them exorcised. I wonder how that would go?

4) My weight loss journey is going well. People are finally able to tell that I've lost some weight, which is nice. I'm still so tired all the time and eating sucks. I miss being able to comfort eat, or at least enjoy food! I don't anymore. I can't even watch cooking videos anymore without feeling nauseous. Right now, even the food I can eat, I don't want. But, I have to eat or I'll die. Allegedly. Geez. It's all supposed to level out in a few more months, so I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Oh! Another fun effect of my surgery is that my hair is falling out! I'm sure there are people out there who'd be thrilled to hear that, but I'm a little scared. I knew it was going to happen, but I didn't realize to what extent. I can only hope it won't be too terrible. I don't know to what to expect. I've thought about going and getting my hair cut short, just so it might not be such a shock if a lot more falls out, but I hate my hair being short. Ugh. Again, what can you do? 

Will you still love me if I'm bald? Even if my head is a weird shape? Even if I have to wear bad Hannah Montana wigs? Just don't let Chris Rock make any jokes. I don't think Steve would take up for me.