Mrs ERJ edition

A circular 5.5mm reference item placed in background to help viewer judge length of the thorn.

Mrs ERJ sent me to the Redi-care on Tuesday to have my head examined.  She determined that I had a surplus of holes in my head.

If you recall, I was cutting Black Locust brush on Saturday.  Out of respect for the trees, I carefully broke their fall with my head.

By Tuesday, all of the minor punctures were healing nicely, except for one.  I asked Mrs ERJ to root around with a pair of tweezers and to pull out the thorn fragment that was undoubtedly stuck in my scalp.  After a bit of rooting, she commanded, "Hie thee down to the Redi-care."

Women, in general, are much better calibrated regarding when to seek professional medical help.  Most men wait too long.  For instance, the average male experiencing a cardiac episode wait 13 hours before seeking professional help.  On the flip side, those of us who do seek medical help often go too far the other way and become hypochondriacs.

I am a celebrity

More accurately, I am the spouse of a celebrity, at least at the Redi-care.

"Oh, you must be the husband of the famous Mrs ERJ!"

I bask in her (reflected) glory.  "Yes I am.  She is awesome, isn't she?"

Kerry, the Nurse Practitioner expertly shaved away the crater of skin around the puncture wound.  That serves two purposes.  It removes any debris that might have been deposited between the  layers of skin and it gave her more length-of-shank of the thorn to grab with the hemostats.

Bonus link:  If you only bookmark one item from my blog, bookmark this page  ==>Emergency Medical Care<==  Just in case you cannot get to the emergency room in a timely fashion.

Kerry is unique, in my experience.  She prefers to use a large caliper, hypodermic needle to peel back the cratered skin.  This is not the first time that Kerry removed embedded, foreign objects from me.

Kerry placed the thorn in gauze and placed it in a urine sample cup.  She directed me to present it to Mrs ERJ and tell her, "Yes, dear.  You were right.  Sending me to the Redi-care was exactly the right thing to do."

Which I did.

She is in my head

It is snowy outside.  I tracked in some snow.  I fiddled around a bit in the the bathroom.  I looked down.  And I saw snow-melt.  Muddy snow-melt.

This posed a dilemma.  I could leave it but I was pretty sure that Mrs ERJ would not appreciate it when she walked into the bathroom with her bunny slippers.

I could use one of her towels to clean it up but something told me that she would not fully appreciate the gesture.

So I mentally played out the conversation that would likely ensue:

Me:  "So what would you have used?"
Mrs ERJ: "I would have used the 'dog towels'"

After living with somebody for a while, we start carrying them around in our head.  It is a good thing Mrs ERJ is petite.

Note to reader: we reserve the grubbiest, end-of-life towels to rub down the dogs when they come in wet and/or muddy.

I trudged out to the entry-way and grabbed a couple of "dog towels".  They worked every bit as well as her face towels.

And she will never know unless she reads this blog.  Which is a good thing.