The Misadventures of a Defective Paramedic

Rufus: 1 Jen:0

Because I am anal retentive and I would slash my wrists (Up and down the street, not across!) if I came home from vacation to a dirty house, I cleaned. I cleaned like a mad woman. For the most part, when I get my panties in a wad and start cleaning like I did, the cats know to hide. Rufus decided that today he would be a brave cat. He would "help."
It started with the vacuum. Most normal cats have an ungodly fear of the vacuum, not Rufus. I imagine Simba in The Lion King, "I laugh in the face of danger. Hahaha." Rufus frolicked around my feet as I, in turn, did my best to not get the cord up in the vacuum as this is a one way ticket to broken belt city. Finally, I finished this task without any casualties. I emptied the canister (who came up with this bagless crap? Now I have to stick my arm up there and pull out the cat hair). I managed to clean the bathtub without much interference from my furry friend. Then, I tackled the kitchen floor.
As I swept the kitchen floor, no small task as my kitchen is rather large, I noticed an orange figure lurking in my peripheral vision. Then...whap! Rufus attacked the broom and its accompanying dirt pile. Cat fur, litter, and other dirty bits of my life scattered. I scolded Rufus and swept him out of the way. I quickly corralled the crud and swept it into the trash can. I continued to sweep as I fended off my antagonist. Rufus seemed to lose interest as I pulled out my sudsy bucket of Pine Sol and Libbman Wonder Mop. I finished mopping in the laundry room and set the cat litter box on the floor. I continued to mop my way out into the kitchen I saw my big orange cat head towards the litter box. "Oh no you don't!" I yelled. But he did, and he tracked litter across my clean, wet floor. This happened twice before I put the litter box back out the back door. Battle: Won. Or so I thought.
As any cat owner knows, where there is a bed in the process of being made, there is a cat. And tonight, that cat was, again, Rufus. As I hooked the sheet on the corners of the mattress, Rufus darted under the sheet. I attempted to shoo him out, but he went further under. As I dove across the bed to nab my pesky cat I overestimated my pouncing ability and went right over the side of the bed. I seem to be getting pretty good at this stunt-woman thing. I'd give that back flip a 10.

Another Day, Another Doctor

Due to the pain, I took my hand specialist's advice and went to see my family doctor to investigate the abnormal bone scan and alleged wrist fracture. He poked and prodded my wrist, occasionally making me yelp. "Yep, probably a fracture in there," He declared. "How'd you do it?" Well, therein lies the mystery. "I don't know," I mused, "Maybe a fall during the ice storm?" That didn't make sense, though, that was almost two months ago. He handed me more prescriptions to stop the sneezing and wheezing, and I headed down to the basement for my x-ray. After the pics were snapped, the tech assured me I'd hear from the doctor tomorrow or Monday. I gathered my stuff and headed to Culver's for a Butterburger (mmm...Butterburger). As I inhaled the salty, greasy goodness and enjoyed the free wi-fi, it hit me. No pun intended.
It was about three weeks ago and I was doing laundry. The cat litter box sits across from the dryer and there is sometimes (read: usually) litter scattered around the area. I was taking my load out of the dryer and wanting to avoid the cat litter and too lazy to walk around the door, I was leaning over the dryer door. When you're 5'2" and trying to reach over the dryer door to get the socks in the back of the dryer, it's bound to happen. And it did. Ass over elbows, I went over the dryer door. I was doing my best to not ruin the dryer, and it all happened very quickly. By the time I was reoriented. I was sitting in the cat litter box, a bruise already forming on my thigh. I looked around. I knew I was alone, but I still couldn't help wonder if anyone saw my acrobatics. The cats were staring at me, and no doubt wishing I'd get out of their litter box. I brushed myself off, changed my pants, and quickly did what I should have done when I first got the dryer. I switched the door to the other side.
So here I sit, a hot Friday spent with an ice pack on my wrist and a bottle of Advil by my side. I'll be awaiting the results and further instructions.

Today, Not so Great

Today I went back to my doctor at Kleinert and Kutz  for my bone scan results. Diagnosis: nada. Apparently my right arm is perfectly normal (or not, as normal arms don't hurt all the time) BUT there may be a slight fracture in my left wrist area. I guess this would explain what I thought was "Blackberry-itis." When or how I may have fractured my wrist is beyond me. I'm also going to go a bit further and guess that stress fractures in the wrist are pretty rare. But, I'm no doctor.

So, all this leaves me at the end of the line. I will go in for a "functionality test" to determine the extent of the disability. After that, I either go back to being a paramedic or I find a new career. I'm thinking I don't have much time to get really good at blogging.

After my ill fated doctor visit, I headed to my favorite comfort spot, Sephora. I really only meant to return some makeup that didn't go so well for me. I did that, then bought some cinnamon bun flavored lip gloss and nail polish with the moniker "Queen of Everything." Like I could resist that. Sephora does get snaps for spotting me a free sample of some really expensive tattoo covering make up. Just a warning, kids, tattoos are expensive and difficult to hide, no matter how you do it. Think once, think twice, then wait until you're thirty, then think again, ask your mother, then if you still want one, Godspeed.