During my childhood and teen years I often heard my parents use this phrase to describe me. It may sound mean, but it was true. It seemed I had an uncanny ability to meet disaster wherever I went. My parents would tell me stories of going to friends' houses for dinner, only to have the evening cut short because I would fall down the stairs and get hurt.
There was the time we went to a fish fry for dinner and bored with waiting in line, my brother and I raced around the building and I ended up with a broken nose from running into a wall. And the first time I set eyes on the ocean I went running onto the beach, breaking my toe on a large rock or shell in the sand.
Or that time I was at a friend's house, and I practiced my cheerleading jump on the back of the couch and landed on a Fischer Price chicken that split the bottom of my foot open.
Then there was the time I went to a weekend music (orchestra) event and called my parents from the emergency department with a broken ankle. How do you break your ankle playing the violin?
And how about the time I got my front tooth knocked out with a snow shovel?
It's gotten a little better as I've gotten older, but it's not uncommon for me to have a fairly decent bruise on my body from running into something. It seems that in my adult year the accidents have caused less harm to my body and more harm to our cars. Like the time I backed up the van without opening the garage door. Or the time I backed one of our cars into our other car.
This weekend my tendency towards accidents showed up and I found myself waiting in the emergency department with a fish bone stuck in my throat. That's right...a fish bone.
Let me set this up for you....
It's Saturday night, we are home and unpacked from our two day trip to Seattle, the kids are in bed, hubby makes a special snack/dinner treat and opens a bottle of wine. We'd bought baguette in Seattle to go with the smoked salmon we had at home and sat down to watch a movie. I was just getting ready to compliment him on the delicious food when I felt like there was a razor blade in my throat.
I ate bread.
I drank water.
I jumped up and down.
All to no avail.
So I drove myself to the Emergency Department for what I thought would be a fairly easy and routine removal of a fish bone.
At the ED I waited.
I was triaged.
I was taken to a room and triaged again.
Then I waited.
I had x-rays taken.
I had a "cocktail" to numb my throat.
I saw the doctor who said nothing showed up on the x-ray.
He stuck an NG tube down my nose (horribly painful) and saw something.
An ENT doctor arrived and stuck the NG tube down my nose again.
I went to the OR.
I was put out with general anesthesia.
FINALLY, THE FISH BONE WAS REMOVED. (5 hours after first arriving at the ED).
At 3am, my husband and daughters had to pick me up since it wasn't safe for me to drive home.
Needless to say I was wiped out by the time I got home. I ended up resting all day Sunday and even now my muscles are achy (a side effect of general anesthesia). I would much rather have achy muscles from an epic, grueling hike than a trip to the hospital.
But I'm thankful the discomfort is gone and the whole ordeal is over. I'm gonna think twice about eating fish in the future.