There was a little home improvement this weekend. I replaced that last of the ugly doorknobs. The French doors took longer than I though so finishing the final doorknob Saturday cut into my football watching (big game!). So I grabbed my Chardonnay and worked on the doorknob during commercial breaks. Yeah, Chardonnay and home improvement don’t mix that well.
Now don’t worry, I didn’t miss any of the game (which I recorded just in case), but at some point during my first glass of wine, I impaled my foot. I dropped a rechargeable screwdriver, point down, onto my foot. You’d be surprised how sharp a phillips head bit can be. Also, I may have taught my neighbors kids a few new words. It hit me at the base of my 2nd and 3rd toes. Not much bleeding but you could see the tissue underneath the skin (look like chicken). It was a deep puncture. There was nothing I was going to be able to do about it Saturday night except drink more wine (works like a charm). And I walked on it Sunday. I’m one of those people that really has to need that medical care to seek it. I should have gone in then.
Instead I waited until today, called my doctors office to check when my last tetanus shot was and then headed off to urgent care (can we just talk about what an oxymoron that is? It should be called “same day care”). I was there for 2 hours and spent about 7 minutes with the doctor laughing about what a clumsy dope I am. Evidently, you can’t get stitches if you wait too long, but you can get a tetanus shot any old time.
So maybe the lesson here is no wine while handling tools. Or maybe the lesson is wine lessens the pain of tool-related injuries.
Or maybe I was having sympathy pains for Beanie Wells (OK, just kidding, I can’t have sympathy pains for Ohio State).