Toe Pick!

Grace is NOT my middle name....

Today I weed whacked my finger....I don't know how....Ok...I do know how...but it's too embarrassing to rehash...I will just say this...If you think the string has broken off the weed whacker, let it completely stop spinning before you reach down there to check. It IS possible that there is still a small piece on there that is not long enough to actually whack weeds, but is the perfect size to take dang near all the skin off your knuckle....just maybe.

Those of you that know me well, know that this is VERY normal for me. I am probably the only person you know that has sprained both ankles on separate occasions, but in the same night. (I also broke a nose that night...not mine...and it wasn't an accident....but still!) Or who has not only slammed their own fingers in a door, but two other people's as well.

My first real job in high school was a summer job at a nursing home (oh the stories I have from that summer). I hadn't even been there a week before I was nicknamed "Lurch" (you know....like from the Addams Family...You Rang!). I didn't get this name from dropping trays, tripping, or any other normal klutzy stuff...I mean I DID do all that, that's just not how I got the name. Oh no....I am a gold medal winning klutz....

I ALMOST KILLED A LADY! No, I am not exaggerating. The depths of my klutziness knows no bounds...I guess I should preface this by telling you what my duties were. I was an environmental aide. Basically this means I changed the "soiled" linens. (P.S. Soiled means pooped or peed on...usually both.) I did get to call bingo and stuff from time to time, but pretty much, I changed beds.

Anyway, one day I was in this lady's room changing her bed. She was sitting in her recliner while I was doing my stuff. She was a really nice lady and we would talk while I worked. She was also hooked up to an oxygen machine. She could not be without it. So that day, we were talking and I had crawled under the bed because the bed pad had not caught all of the....well....soil. I finished cleaning up, crawled back out and continued on with whatever story I was telling her at the time. On my way back out from under the bed, I snagged my foot, but one good yank took care of it.

"Anyway Mrs. Stewart, so I told her that she was crazy and there was no reason to be that dramatic about something so trivial."

Weird sucking noise coming from behind me.

"Wow Mrs. Stewart, you sound like you need another steroid treatment. That is sounding bad. But anyways, she of course got MAD and told me to mind my own business. But, well I can't do that."

More frequent weird sucking noises.

At this point I decided to stop talking for a minute (rare enough in and of itself) and turn around.

The poor woman was turning BLUE.

HOLY CRAP....my shoe! I had unplugged her machine with my shoe! By the time my clumsy ass found the cord and got her plugged back in, she was in bad shape. It took her a while to be able to talk, and of course the whole time I sound like a broken record.

"Oh my gosh...I'm so sorry! Oh wow, I am SO sorry! Are you ok? I am so sorry!"

When she is finally able to talk, all that saint of a woman says, "It's ok honey, it happens all the time."

Bless her little heart! Sweet thing just lied through her false teeth.

The next day I was Lurch and really, I still haven't lost the nick name....