Thursday, March 26, 2009

he asked if he was like emeril, so i lied and said yes

so yesterday was a bit painful on the ole' mummy hand front: right around 2pm, the damn wrist swelled up inside the cast like it was trying to pull a "Hulk" and bust its ass out. i can understand the sentiment - this whole cast situation really puts a cramp in my style. but seriously, i couldn't get the swelling to go down (at least that's what i think was happening, but i don't know for sure because MY ARM IS STUCK IN A CAPSULE OF DEATH). no amount of ridiculous air-holding or finger-waggling or ibuprofen-taking helped, and the swelling was causing major pain and serious claustrophobia - i felt like the cast was crawling up my fucking arm on its way to my throat.

everyone humor me for a second here - you know the little round bone that sticks up on the top of your wrists? i think its the distal end of the ulna bone, but who the hell knows? (yes i know doctors know)((and smarter people in general))

well, i'd like you to take your finger and push down on that little lump for me. push REAL hard! now, you notice how the bone feels pliable and spongy? how it mooshes down into your arm when you press it like a button? well that sponginess is what allows for my massive swollen arm to fit inside this rock-hard cast...

wait, what? yours doesn't smoosh down like a sponge? hmmm well guess what? NEITHER DOES MINE! oh my fucking god, i thought that bump was going to be shattered into smithereens last night by the internal pressure of the tomb...er...cast.

until yesterday, the swelling and pain was mostly gone, and i'm not sure what kicked off this latest reign of mummy hand terror. i have been using the arm more frequently, as well as my fingers on that hand (not the thumb, because "the thumb bone's connected to the wrist bone", and therefore utter thumb immobilization is necessary. i pretty much HAVE to use the arm at least a little bit; otherwise i'd need a co-worker to pull up my pants and button them. i'd need someone to open my container of powder fiber every day. hell, i cant even stack two papers together and staple them with just one hand (and that's probably a good 2/5 of what my job entails). i NEED the mummy hand to prop shit against.

i told gray that he's got to start cooking or we'll starve to death because we're already $100 over our food budget for March, and that is entirely due to the mummy hand. normally i'd be cooking dinner every night which would give us leftovers for lunch. but "can open the fridge and drool inside" is about the extent of my cooking abilities at the moment. HOW THE HELL DO AMPUTEES EAT, MAN?

i was feeling ultra ambitious on tuesday and decided to make some chili - filling and guaranteed leftovers! somehow i managed to chop up an onion and some garlic, using mummy hand to stabilize the vegetables. then i pulled out some ground turkey and all the spices. thats when i realized there were at least 4 separate cans of tomato and bean products that I CAN NOT OPEN by myself. gray wasn't due home for three more hours, and i'd just spent 45 minutes chopping a damn onion. POORLY. plus, i kind of tweaked my wrist at one point when the onion started to roll around.

last night gray and i finished the chili together. it took for fucking ever, but it got done. i am a bit of a neurotic kitchen spaz, and gray just about blew my mental fuses with his rookie skills and slow-ass chopping. but i was equally charmed by his complete ineptitude as i was frustrated by it (he says the same of my bossiness and scrunched up faces). there was CELERY AIR GUITAR! there was SLOPPY CHOPPING! there was TURNING THE CAN OPENER ONE TIME AND EXPECTING THE BEANS TO DRAIN OUT A 1/4 HOLE IN THE LID! while STILL HOLDING THE CAN BY THE CAN OPENER! there were SPLATTERS! and CRUMBS! and GENERAL KITCHEN AREA CHAOS!

but the chili was decent, and we didn't have to buy dinner. and as we sat down to eat (at 8:00), we had this discussion:

gray: thanks for your help with dinner.

cat: thank YOU for your help - you did all the work!

gray: meh, i was just your tool.

cat: yes, honey - you are definitely a tool.

5 more weeks of this? it might be easier to starve to death.

25 comments:

  1. I just did the whole push down on the spongey bone that isn't really spongey because you tricked me and now it hurts and I'm going to have a bruise.

    I'm sorry you are trapped in a monster consuming tomb. I hope you get it off soon.

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  2. Hey, I had chili for dinner last night too but mine was a diet recipe and it wasn't as great as usual. The best is when you dump Fritos and sour cream into it before eating. My stomach is eating itself just thinking about it.

    Sorry about your hand but you paint a nice picture of you fumbling around in the kitchen swearing at a rolly onion.

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  3. That sounds like me when i cook! lol which is hardley EVER

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  4. Um...your bone tales are almost enough to make me stop riding my bike.

    The other day I skidded on a turn and your stories flashed through my head as I envisioned a similar-wrist scenario.

    Moral of the story? I feel soooo sorry for you.

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  5. Poor old man. It must be hard to live with someone so perfect ;)

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  6. I got an idea. Get yourself five chopsticks. Now ram those babies into your cast so they're sticking out like fingers. Now get some of those rubbery things people stick on their thumbs to shuffle through paper with and stick those to the ends of the chopsticks with some elastics. Voila!

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  7. yeah, uh, i did the spongy bone thing too, and i actually was thinking to myself "well, i guess...you could call that feeling spongy"
    then i read on and felt sooooo dumb
    but anyway the real reason i'm commenting is because CELERY AIR GUITAR RULES!!!!!

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  8. Cooking together can be a whole lot of fun. It's always good to have a tool in the kitchen.

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  9. awww, sweetie! I'd cook for you and Gray, just so I don't have to listen to this saddery. I wanna fix your non-smushable bone.

    And thanks a lot, jerk.. for making me push on that bone for a long time, trying to find my squishy part! LOL

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  10. Damn that mummy hand, giving you such a hard time!

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  11. Wow. I really feel for you; which is weird 'cause I'm typically not very sympathetic.

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  12. The idea of your arm swelling up inside a cast almost gave me a panic attack. I would have started going at it with nail clippers, teeth, anything...

    I'm sad you didn't get a skin cast. It would have looked like a muscled Popeye arm.

    But black glitter is alright too. You should name your cast something like RuPaul, or Diana. Then maybe it won't seem like such a threat when it tries to kill you.

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  13. You know, it is all about having the right tool for every job.

    Now excuse me while i go put ice on my non-smooshy wrist bone. It hurts like hell from all that pushing on it to find the smooshy part.

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  14. Oh man, I love ya. Great post. One, I feel so bad for you. It must suck having an immobile and painful hand. Two, I would totally be using MY mummy hand, if I had one, to threaten people with so they'd do my bidding.

    Me: Yo, you over there, grab me that coca cola.

    Stranger: Whatever. Who do you think you are, ordering a stranger around?

    Me: I'm the person who's about to beat your face in with my rock-solid arm unless you get me that coca cola. Oh, and grab me an US Weekly, too.

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  15. I love tools. Heh heh heh.

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  16. Gray needs to get some cooking skills pronto! And in the meantime I have two words: frozen dinners.

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  17. First of all, you had me really worried there for a second, because my bones are not spongy, and being the hypochondriac I am, I seriously thought something must be wrong with me, and I almost didn't read any further because I had a sudden urge to call 911 instead.

    Second of all, you are very brave. I'd take starving in a heartbeat.

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  18. I can so relate to all of it!

    When my ankle was broken.. swelling and pain were gone.. out of the blue, one day, it swelled up bigger than shit. And nothing helped.

    Then a coworker says "take ibuprofen"
    and my thought was "bend over, my ankle already hurts, how much more would it hurt if i used it to kick your ass?" ha ha ha ha ha!

    Wasn't laughing at the time - but I think it's funny now.

    And as for cooking - Karen can't.
    But whenever I'm sick, she tries.
    It stresses me to no end.
    All I want is burger king or mcdonalds but she insists on trying to cook.

    Hope you are able to do things for yourself again soon. It sucks being disabled.

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  19. Be forewarned- the next time you tell me to push on a bone, muscle or any other part of the anatomy, I'm not doing it! lol :o) Glad you finally had a good meal!

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  20. oh man, what a pain in the ass! you better tell Gray he has to come home early and cook you dinner EVERY NIGHT until you heal or he isn't getting any. I would do it for you but I couldn't handle the commute.

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  21. 3 words- Electric Can Opener. For serious.

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  22. Aren't there Meals on Wheels programs for people like you?

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  23. It might be time to invest in frozen meals. But could you get the plastic cover off with one hand. On second thought, they have a lot of sodium in those meals so that wouldn't be good for the swelling.

    Maybe cereal?

    I'm out of ideas.

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  24. okay: you have a cast but can't cook or wipe your own very well.

    okay: I can cook, I can wipe my ass as good as I want to but I never get laid.

    Hmmmmm......whose life is worse? Can't decide

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  25. Oh, My Dear!1

    I'm so sorry for your mishap and your misery, and hope that time speeds by and you're on your way to the open air again.

    I do confess that holding the can by the opener and shaking it over the sink is an absolute tradition in this family, especially tuna cans, cause I hate to touch the water.

    I hope you're better soon,

    says rachel, who once played in a grade-school piano recital with a cast the size of a melon on her wrist. The song was "Mexican Hat Dance" and I had rehearsed the "Clap-clap" moments for weeks.

    First time in history that particular piece was played as "Dah-da-da-dah-da-da-DAH! clunk! clunk!" And the varnish on that piano was never the same.

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You.Yeah, you. Speak the fuck up.