08-24-2017, 07:00 AM
I love that we can all laugh about it and it was nothing serious. Great example of what fear does to bright, intelligent people. So we can laugh and learn from it.
1st take away. Don't do self diagnosis via the internet. Doctors go to school for years to learn that shit. Probably shouldn't build solar or electrical systems this way for the same damn reason!
2nd take away. Remember how resilient children were? What happened? Sure we all got a little older but really we ain't all that brittle. I am living proof we are pretty damn hard to kill. Most shit goes away. We got smarter and we overthink stuff far too much. Tigers don't always eat you and that puffer fish was probably prepared correctly.
3rd We all gots back up! The tribe is here for each other and this is an awesome example.
I remember writing late one night and hearing a crash outside. Out I ran, but I put my glass of vodka in the Engel cooler that sat beside my desk. After two hours of dealing with cops and ambulances and drunk teenagers I came back into the house. I sat down, relit my cigar and retrieved my glass of vodka. It had mixed with the diluted ice cube and turned into a bit of a slurry. I continued writing and the evening went on and my glass went down. I reached the bottom of the glass and noticed a hard chunk of ice. Only it wasn't ice it was glass. The vodka glass had one of those fancy bubbles in the bottom of the glass. I had washed it in the dishwasher and water had gone into the little bubble. When the ice froze it broke up into the glass. My anxiety ruined my vodka buzz and I tired to put the pieces of glass back together in order to determine how much glass was missing. Images of lacerated intestines danced in my head and further, down the chain, more dramatic images fought for attention. I went to the internet computer and pulled up google and remembered what my Dr. PHd, and medical professional niece had told me about googling medical stuff and stopped.
I pulled out the vodka bottle and took a few good pulls from the neck. No pointing in facing a lacerating large intestine and tattering balloon knot sober. Then I called poison control. "Ah look this might sound kind of stupid but..."
"It's ok Sir I get that a lot." The interrupting voice said calmly. "Before we continue I notice you are calling from a cell phone. Are you at the address the cell phone is registered to?"
I calmed down. This was an incredibly intelligent question. Mommy had just walked into the room, and as we all know one could be missing a limb, from a less than affectionate tiger and "Mom gots this." I explained my culinary failure and she listened and reassured me that the virginal properties of my ballon knot would not be violated by a wayward glass episiotomy. Then she did something incredible. She told me to look at the internet and see how much glass stupid people eat all the time and survive death and internal evisceration. I did and with a few more good pulls from the bottle I let it go.
I am glad everyone is fine and that the situation has been resolved with She Who Must Be Obeyed NOT turning into Smurfette. But in the back of my mind I hear Ron White's voice "here's your sign..." "You'll might be from Kentucky but...this ain't right!" I think a badge might be in order for both of you. Cue Jimmy "Purple Haze is in my brain...."
1st take away. Don't do self diagnosis via the internet. Doctors go to school for years to learn that shit. Probably shouldn't build solar or electrical systems this way for the same damn reason!
2nd take away. Remember how resilient children were? What happened? Sure we all got a little older but really we ain't all that brittle. I am living proof we are pretty damn hard to kill. Most shit goes away. We got smarter and we overthink stuff far too much. Tigers don't always eat you and that puffer fish was probably prepared correctly.
3rd We all gots back up! The tribe is here for each other and this is an awesome example.
I remember writing late one night and hearing a crash outside. Out I ran, but I put my glass of vodka in the Engel cooler that sat beside my desk. After two hours of dealing with cops and ambulances and drunk teenagers I came back into the house. I sat down, relit my cigar and retrieved my glass of vodka. It had mixed with the diluted ice cube and turned into a bit of a slurry. I continued writing and the evening went on and my glass went down. I reached the bottom of the glass and noticed a hard chunk of ice. Only it wasn't ice it was glass. The vodka glass had one of those fancy bubbles in the bottom of the glass. I had washed it in the dishwasher and water had gone into the little bubble. When the ice froze it broke up into the glass. My anxiety ruined my vodka buzz and I tired to put the pieces of glass back together in order to determine how much glass was missing. Images of lacerated intestines danced in my head and further, down the chain, more dramatic images fought for attention. I went to the internet computer and pulled up google and remembered what my Dr. PHd, and medical professional niece had told me about googling medical stuff and stopped.
I pulled out the vodka bottle and took a few good pulls from the neck. No pointing in facing a lacerating large intestine and tattering balloon knot sober. Then I called poison control. "Ah look this might sound kind of stupid but..."
"It's ok Sir I get that a lot." The interrupting voice said calmly. "Before we continue I notice you are calling from a cell phone. Are you at the address the cell phone is registered to?"
I calmed down. This was an incredibly intelligent question. Mommy had just walked into the room, and as we all know one could be missing a limb, from a less than affectionate tiger and "Mom gots this." I explained my culinary failure and she listened and reassured me that the virginal properties of my ballon knot would not be violated by a wayward glass episiotomy. Then she did something incredible. She told me to look at the internet and see how much glass stupid people eat all the time and survive death and internal evisceration. I did and with a few more good pulls from the bottle I let it go.
I am glad everyone is fine and that the situation has been resolved with She Who Must Be Obeyed NOT turning into Smurfette. But in the back of my mind I hear Ron White's voice "here's your sign..." "You'll might be from Kentucky but...this ain't right!" I think a badge might be in order for both of you. Cue Jimmy "Purple Haze is in my brain...."
Beast Master , Junky Monkey , Drinks With Wolves in the You Ain't Right Club. 2 stinking badges a cluster, and "THE FLYING MANURE SPREADER"