Sometimes

Sometimes when life is a little rough, you can take a step back and appreciate what you have going for you. You count your blessings. Things may be tough, but you're a lot better off than a lot of people. Sometimes it just takes a little perspective.

Sometimes you can just ride out the bumps. Take things one step at a time. You make adjustments.

And sometimes, when you think: despite the rough spots, everything's going to be ok...

Life will come over and give you a quick kick in the nuts.

And then give you a cookie, just to fuck with you.

* * *

So things seem to be going ok. I'm not overly excited about work, but the latest to-do list is keeping me somewhat engaged. I think I finally found an accountant so I can get all this self-employment/independent contractor stuff taken care of. It's too bad that he's confirmed that I'm going to have to pay 1/3 of my estimated taxes for the year (for what I expect to make on this contract for the full calendar year) by next Wednesday, despite having only been paid for the first 9 days that I've worked -- meaning, I have to pay more in taxes than I've actually been paid. I know that it'll even itself out the next time around, but it still feels wrong. Oh, and there's still something funky going on with my knee, but it only seems to flare up when I'm sprinting hard -- I seem to be able to run at a normal pace without too much trouble. (Too bad it means that whenever we play disc, I seem to tweak it. But practice was great yesterday.) Oh, and there's some nasty critters that are eating the lilies out front, but at least the rest of the garden is looking pretty good.

But, you know -- it feels like summer. Class is almost over. I'm going to see the SOOTTAD in two days. I can make it.

Or at least I thought I could.

Like I said, work has been ok. And the Physiology final this evening wasn't too bad. I would have liked to have gone out with the rest of the class, but I needed to get home and do a practice session and study Anatomy because I'm heading out to my college reunion on Friday, so I won't have any time to study. I figured I'd try and tidy the house up a little before T arrived, since she'd never been to the house before, but I settled on doing the dishes.

And sliced my hand open on a glass that I hadn't noticed was broken.

So much for being good and getting you work done. So much for doing the "right thing." I should have gone out drinking.

Anyway, I've been through this routine before (One day, I may have to write about the cleaver incident) so I was pretty sure I was going to need stitches again. Wash it out with soap and hot water. Direct pressure. Ice.

I call T and tell her we're going to have to cancel today. I call some friends to figure out where the nearest emergency room is since the last one I went to closed its doors a few years ago. Lots of people not answering. I finally get through to RB, (he asks if it's my throwing hand. Uh, yeah. Maybe I can just go long) and it's off to Newton-Wellesley. The bleeding seems to have stopped by the time I get in the car to drive myself to the emergency room (because I don't want to subject any of my friends to the torture of the hours of waiting). It starts bleeding again by the time I get onto 128. Damn, I haven't eaten dinner yet.

F! Not going to be able to practice the arm techniques this week. Final assessment in 2-1/2 weeks. I'm really hoping it'll have healed up enough before then. No disc. Getting even more out of shape. I'm not sad, I'm pissed. Ripshit.

When I get to the hospital, there's no parking in the emergency lot. Not a good sign. I end up parking on the street. I check in, make nice with the staff. Yeah, I've been through this before. Whaddaya think, 4 hours? More like 14, the receptionist jokes. I really hope I'll be out before midnight. I bring my Anatomy notebook so I can study while I wait. I call the SOOTTAD. It starts to rain. Hard. Thunder and lightning.

The cookie? I don't think I wait more than 40 minutes and I'm called in and see the attending physician. 4 stitches; they can come out in 10 days and things should be back to normal, more or less. Keep it dry for 48 hours; keep an eye on it for signs of infection. (The rain will make that a bit challenging, but whatever.)

I'm out by 9:40pm. Wow, an hour. Despite the waiting area being packed, it's probably the shortest I've ever waited for emergency care. Apparently, not being a severe injury (whew, I was feeling guilty about that), I get sent to a lower priority area which turns out to be less busy. Lucky break. I'm still pissed, but at least I'm home before midnight and I can get dinner, right? ...right?

Small consolation. I suppose I should also be happy that lightning didn't hit the house while I was in the shower and electrocute me. (Not that I can find any record on-line of this ever actually happening, despite all the dire warnings.)