Sunday, June 25, 2006

Satan's Pitchforks

I do not allow them in my house – especially those round wooden ones. Occasionally my mother tries to sneak them in when she comes to visit. I remind her that if she wants me to be kind to her in her drooling years, that those instruments of the devil – those things she refers to as “toothpicks”
--but that I KNOW are Satan’s pitchforks –
are NOT allowed on the premises.
“WHY!?!?!?”

I don’t remember what I was doing when “IT” happened. Actually, much of the time around the “incident” is a blur – but I’m sure that’s common. Ask anyone who’s been attacked by Satan – and they remember the attack. But they probably don’t remember exactly what they were doing. I know I was in my room. I know I was walking. And suddenly I was crumpling.

I immediately removed a tiny wooden sliver from my foot.

“Mom!”
“Yes, dear!”
“Mom! I stepped on one of your toothpicks…AGAIN!”
‘Te-hee, te-hee!”
“Yeah, right! Really funny!”

Unfortunately, no one was laughing at three o’clock in the morning.
“Jaynee, what’s wrong sweetie?”
“My foot—it’s throbbing! It feels hot – and it hurts when it touches the covers, an—“
“Jaynee, sweetie. I’m not taking you to the Emergency Room. It costs $500 to walk in the door (hey, it was 1976) --just—“
“I don’t want to go to the Emergency Room!! I just want to go to sleep”
“Jaynee, sweetie – I’ll take you to the doctor first thing in the morning. I promise. Just try to rest.”

Of course, Satan would not let me rest. Whenever my foot came into contact with anything, pain would shoot up my leg, sending me into convulsions, which inevitably would cause my foot to touch something else – which kept Satan entertained and me in tears all night.

True to her word (as my Mother still is), she called the Doctor first thing, and I soon found myself waiting in the room for the doctor.
But I didn’t get the Doctor…..I got Espy, Satan’s protégé.
“What seems to be the problem?” asked Espy.
“Well, I stepped on a toothpick yesterday, and it still—“
“You’ve got a sliver!?!?”
“Well, I don’t know….I thought I got it out. Maybe it hit someth—“
“You’ve got a sliver?” Espy sneered, “and your Mommy couldn’t get it out?”
“I don’t know! All I know is that it hur—“
“Here,” Espy snarled, “let me take a look at the poor baby’s foot.”
And with that, she grabbed my throbbing foot, and started prodding and poking. ‘Hmmm, it does look like there’s someth—“ As I increased my death grip on the bed and my mother’s arm, Espy grabbed a pair of needlenose pliers
--okay, okay, it was a pair of hemostats – but it felt like pliers
--and began to dig in the hole in the bottom of my foot.
--my throbbing foot.
“Yes! There is something – I’ve almost—“ As Espy dug deeper, twisting the pliers (yeah – pliers!), I could see her horns curling, her tail lashing,. My mother insists that she saw none of that – but I’m sure I did
“Yes! I’ve got it!”
And with a triumphant yell, Espy pulls the pliers from my foot. The blood drains from my head. Her horns and tail disappear, and I see Satan vacate her body, leaving only a very apologetic Espy-the-nurse….holding ½ of a bloody toothpick. A very bloody toothpick.
“Oh sweetie,” Espy murmurs, “I’m so sorry. I should have given you something for the pain!”
Yeah, you should have. Bitch.

But, it has given me and my family another great line:
I’m not taking you to the Emergency Room – it costs $_________ to walk in the door...

7 comments:

Mustang said...

High School..Junior year..mowing backyard barefoot. Run over the wire ring that holds school binders together (younger brother had discarded in yard)with the lawn mower. Slice left big toe to the bone. Ouch.

High School..Senior year..running barefoot on the wrestling map. Fall down..jump up..snap off right big toe at bone capsule (have photo if you dont believe, or ask to see scar). Go hospital, get sent to my own doctor..some pain killer, but wears off before he finshes sewing toe back on. The way they tug at the stiches as it moves through your skin...OUCH!!

Result..dreadful fear of going around barefoot. Stubbed toes, broken toe nails, staples and pins in foot...not to mention scars and near-amputations...As such, I am deathly afraid of walking around barefoot.

M

Solitaire said...

Awe! That would hurt like a bitch! Damn doctors don't have any clue what their patients are going through... they just want to get on with you and to the next one so they can hit their quota for their HMO's.... damn doctors.... I hate those mutha... oh wait... sorry!
:-)

I dislike going to the doctor and I'd definately hate to have a toothpick in my foot.

lime said...

oh lord! i think we went to the same doc's office. i needed stitches in my eyelid when ui was 7. same thing, ER was too exoensive for uninsured single mother. the doctor did it while my mother held me down. nothing but a baggie of ice to numb my eyelid. not that it helped at all.

lecram sinun said...

heedle in my throat... but that's another story.

Katie :) said...

YOWZA!

Lelly said...

OMG I'm feeling faint jst reading about that APJ!! Errr...thanks for sharing! *hurl*

jade ed girl said...

12 years old..19 shots of Novacaine into bloody exposed nail-less finger tip. 19 shots and they couldn't bloody figure out that I don't respond to Novacaine...at all.. 19 shots that hurt less than the 4 stitches they finally gave me... with no anesthesic!!