I have to resist the temptation to talk about EVERY little fall and malady that I have. If I didn’t I should have to re-title my blog. I’d have to use something like “Le Monde de Kate Who Falls Down All the Time and Who Has Rather Gruesome Pustules and Other Repugnant Ailments All Too Often and Who is Obsessed by Her Life of Regrettable Mishaps.” It’s a little wordy. Besides, I am not a COMPLETE freak.
Anyhoo, I refrained from mentioning the notable day that I walked into Walmart (is that not notable in and of itself in a festive and trashy kind of way?) and promptly biffed it big time – flat onto the ground.
Something about it was just inherently more humiliating than had I fallen, say, in Nordstrom. I suppose this makes me a calamity snob. The fact that no one, not even the “Friendly” Walmart greeter, offered any sympathy or help to me at all, didn’t help my snooty attitude. I kid you not – it seemed that people would have just stepped over me and said, “Look away, Wanda June! That big ol’ lady felled down on the floor and cussed really bad!” They have such good customer service at Nordstrom that if I’d fallen there they’d have probably given me free jewelry or shoes just to make me feel better.
What I actually intended to recount today was the festive tumble I took this morning. Let me preface this by saying we rarely, if ever, use our actual “front” door. We use a door that’s almost in the front of the house (that is conveniently next to the garage). Today, as I left for work, I decided to go and get the leaflet that someone had left on our “front” door; it had been there for days. On the way up the path I tripped. I fell with a resounding splat on the pavement and the pine needles and the dead leaves and sticks and things. It was NOT my fault; there’s a notable unevenness in the pavement right there and I’ve not used the path for a long time because it has been covered in snow and blah blah blah – you get the picture. So I had a bruised, bloody, scraped up knee/leg. A clever person would have gone into the house right then and there and provided first aid to the wound. I decided I’d just drive to work and deal with it as I went.
I first tried to find a tissue. I like to live in a very tissue-rich environment, I should say, but I could find nary a clean tissue or napkin – nothing. I then pulled a Band-Aid out of my purse. Turns out it was the faux skin kind of Band-Aid that has no absorbency whatsoever. I didn’t want to walk into the hospital with blood running down my leg – that’s so passé. Luckily, I found some little facial oil-blotting papers in the deep recesses of my purse that I used to staunch the blood.
So here’s the moral of the story. There are two noteworthy revelations I had because of today’s smash up. (And you thought it was the same ol’ boring clumsiness saga.) Oh – THREE things.
First, if you use facial oil-blotting papers to soak up blood, they STICK quite securely to the wound. Second, I finally learned where to get free Band-Aids at the hospital (the same-day surgery waiting room right down the hall). Lastly, if you stick your knee in the restroom sink to thoroughly clean your injury, your sock will inadvertently get sopping wet (though you’ll be really grateful if you’re wearing a skirt – maybe this is why I have many skirts).