Friday, May 30, 2008

Happy Birthday

To the love of my life The Hound.

Welcome officially to the downslope towards 40.


Wednesday, May 28, 2008

I am NOT smarter than a 5th grader...

Or so one would be led to believe if a certain 38-year old tried to put out an essential oil fire with her two middle fingers.

The result was this:

And this:

It all started when I was trying to make my apartment smell pretty for my small get together for the preview of So You Think You Can Dance. I have an oil burner that you can burn essential oils in and scent the house. One of my favorite combos is eucalyptus and peppermint(a nice breathing mix). Anyway, this particular oil burner had a place for one tea candle to burn. Trouble is, the smell doesn't permeate as well with only one candle. So first dumb shit move, I use three. I balance them, as I have before, neatly side by side. Up till this point this method has worked fine. Second dumb shit move, I put the oil burner on the bookshelf with hundreds of books filled with lots of flammable paper.

My guests arrive, the show is about ready to start, I look over at the oil burner on the bookshelf and the entire triumverate of candles was on fire. Not just
the wick in each candle, but the entire tea candle. I panic, walk over the bookshelf, and in dumb shit move number three, try to blow the fire out while my mouth was pointed towards the bookshelf. The flame sparked towards the books in milliseconds. I panic further and only having the thought of "get fire away from paper", reached across my body with my right hand to sweep the oil burner on the floor and away from the bookshelf. Heaven knows why I thought having the burning oil burner on the floor would be a better option, but there you go. As I reached across to grab the oil burner, my middle two fingers decided to marinate in the burning oil a bit. The flame was pretty.

I then feel a searing pain unlike many I've had, (and I've had a few searing pains) and rush towards the kitchen sink. Thank God Ly went into tackle mode as I swept the oil burner to the floor, because he tackled it to smother it. Apparently we totally bumped heads in the cross-over, but by that point, I didn't feel a thing.

I then soaked my hand in ice-water for 3 1/2 hours. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the ER that night, but I honestly didn't want to pay the fee. So I went to urgent care the next day. Because the burns were completely circumferential they sent me to a hand surgeon to make sure my circulation wasn't compromised and that they didn't have to do hand surgery.

As a massage therapist, no hand surgery is definitely a better day than hand surgery. So I am back massaging today, I did 4 massages today with big bandages on my fingers, and a rubber glove on my right hand. My client's didn't seem too concerned, which I was SO very grateful for. I'm not a fan of massage with gloves on.

After one week, my hands now look like this:

and this:

I fully believe there are no accidents, and this little bout of "slow the hell down and be appreciative" was brought to me by the letter z, the universe, and the number 9.