Bloodstains on the carpet
Wednesday, May 02, 2018
So I get to give myself a med injection intramuscularly every couple of weeks, follow on from the surgery I had last summer. I shoot myself in the right quad usually, and usually, there's nothing more than a drop or two of bloody liquid that comes out of the puncture as the body deals with a mL of liquid getting inserted into a space that was quite comfortable without it, thank you very much.
That, um, wasn't the case last night. I suspect I nicked a blood vessel, as immediately after removing the needle, that one drop of blood quickly turned into a bidirectional stream. And I'm sitting there, on my bed, rather than getting up and dealing with it by grabbing the box of tissues sitting not too far away, but instead trying to turn my leg this way or that depending on which stream of blood in getting closer to going over the edge of the muscle onto the bedsheet. Let's just say I lost...on both directions.
To be fair, it wasn't a real gusher. I was just semi-paralyzed, from a series of reactions, ranging from, "Whoa!" to "What the frak?" to "This is kinda cool!", the last of which I admit is a little weird. The aftermath had to do with soaking the affected area of the bedsheet in cold water as the internet dictated, searching futilely for hydrogen peroxide, which the internet also suggested help in getting rid of blood, and thinking, "I sure hope I don't ever do that again." And of course, listening to Michael Jackson, as a line from his song Smooth Criminal provides today's blog title.
Fortunately, no blood actually found its way onto the carpet. Also fortunate, the welt that had formed at the injection site has receded, and I'm not feeling any particular pain in the leg, since I'm planning on hitting the gym for a "Intelligent Fitness Design" class this afternoon, which apparently combines a bit of circuit training, with a bit of mental training, like doing sudoku puzzles. I'm going mostly out of curiosity, as I suspect it's geared more towards the older crowd that predominates at my gym.
And, assuming that doesn't wipe me out (mentally or physically!) I'm hoping to go out to see a concert this evening, featuring the band Discipline, responsible for my all time favorite album, and the band District 97, which features a singer that made it to the top 10 female finalists of some past season of American Idol. Not your usual progressive rock band frontwoman, to be sure. Should be a good show.