The Needle

 

During the last week of June, I decided it was time to make a sock monkey for our new grandson who was due to arrive in August.  I have made dozens of these monkeys over the course of my life.  I know exactly how to do it.

Unfortunately, while in the final moments of making the clothes for the monkey, I got my thumb a little too close to the sewing machine needle.  With a single up-down motion of the needle, the piercing dagger was embedded in my thumb.

The needle broke off  from the machine.  When I jerked my hand back in response to the injury, half of the needle was sticking out of my nailbed along with two long, black strings.

Without thinking, I grabbed the needle with my teeth and pulled.  Most of the needle came out, but the sharp tip was still embedded in my thumb, and both long, black strings were still hanging out of the nailbed.

I found a pair of needle-nose pliers and began gently winding the threads around them hoping to finish pulling the needle out.  No such luck.  The threads broke and the needle, plus additional black thread, remained in my thumb.

There really wasn't any pain associated with the accident.  Mostly I was just frustrated.  So instead of doing anything about my thumb, I finished sewing the monkey clothes together on the machine.  The next day I did all of the hand sewing to finish the monkey.

About two weeks later, I finally allowed consort to take me to the doctor.  You can see what the physician on call found in the above x-rays.  What the doc told me was that he could do absolutely nothing to help me.  The needle appeared to be lodged in the bone.  He wrote a prescription for a high-dose antibiotic to avoid any infection.  He then advised I go immediately to the hospital for emergency surgery.  

Yeah, it's all fun and games until they tell you surgery is needed.

I'm not big on medical procedures.  And with something like this, I really thought the needle would work its way out eventually.  There was definitely trauma to the nail.  I could feel the needle just under the skin and behind my fingernail.  About once a week I would trim the nail back which seemed to relieve the buildup of pressure.   

Fast forward to October 8th of this year.  On that particular day my thumbnail kept getting caught whenever it brushed over fabric.  Not giving it much thought, I finally took the time to trim the nail back.  After the first clip, I could see the silver end of the needle protruding from under the edge of my nail.  I grabbed my hemostats (the same ones I use for pulling the hair out of D.O.G.'s ears) and, after sterilizing them, went to work on extracting the needle.  (I probably should have gone to see Dr. W,  the infamous surgeon who lives three doors down...)

But I digress.

Each time I grabbed the needle, it receded back into the nailbed.  After a few attempts, I knew it was time to man-up and, despite the discomfort, pull the needle out before it receded so far into the thumb I wouldn't be able to reach it.  

On the fifth attempt I was successful.  The tip of the needle covered in thread came out.  The above picture shows the size and shape of a brand-new needle on the right.  The small piece on the left is what came out of my thumb.  And now, six weeks later, my thumb is completely normal.  The nail is growing back beautifully and both the tingling and numbness at the end of my thumb have gone away.

I believe this means it's time to schedule manicures!

Quote of the day:  Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears. ~ Marcus Aurelius

Author's disclaimer:  I am not condoning the abandonment of a physician's advice.

A Sigh of Contentment

It's raining, it's pouring, the Old Man is snoring.  He bumped his head when he went to bed and he couldn't get up in the morning.  Rain, rain, go away!

Winter Texans want to play!

We are well settled into our new house.  The entire house has been washed, everything from appliances to walls.  Our belongings have been sorted and put away.  The winter season is revving up.  Most days the weather is too nice to stay inside, not to mention all the activities going on.  It seems the seasons are kind of backwards here.  Winter is for being outside and playing; summer is for hibernating against the formidable heat.  Because of this, consort and I have decided to put off any big projects until next summer.  Who wants to work inside when you can go to the beach?

These two pictures are of the guest bedroom.  The antique furniture was gifted me by my mother.  The bed is so tall one needs a footstool to climb in.  All of the doilies stitched together into a curtain were made by my great grandmother.  I have a hard time not pausing for a quick nap each time I pass this room!

This is the Texas room.  It looks out over the Resaca del Rancho Viejo.  A resaca is actually an ancient, abandoned outflowing branch of the Rio Grande river essentially frozen in time.  No new resacas can form because the Rio Grande River Water Authority now manages flood issues with dams and levees.  There are five primary resacas here in South Texas.  They vary in size and shape -- from oxbow lakes to long, narrow channels -- and cover about 250 river miles.  There is a multitude of wildlife attracted to the open water: raccoons, opossums, and feral cats; but it's the birds that continually catch my eye.  Orioles, green jays, parrots, doves, chachalacas, Mexican blackbirds, and Kiskadees.  It is truly a  feast for the eyes.

The living room.  Each morning I start the day with a cup of coffee while looking out at the resaca from the Texas room or from the deck, depending on the weather.  Consort and I both finish the day the same way, just sitting and looking out at the resaca.  We still can't get our heads around the fact we live in a place with palm trees and seagulls in the backyard.  That's just not something you see in Oklahoma.

Rainbow over the resaca and 
view of the resaca at night.

Both consort and I are quite pleased with our new digs.  I have the same wonderful feeling I had after we were married and moved into our first place together.  Cute little house nestled in amongst our friends just big enough for the two of us -- and, of course, the mangy mongrel and deranged moggy -- with endless possibilities for the future.

The crocodile has returned and

is swimming in my backyard!

This cormorant is to be found every morning

perched on a post that is in the resaca.  On this

particular morning, it looked as though he was

holding forth for anyone who would listen.

We had an event this year that was even bigger than giving up our nomadic lifestyle, if you can believe that.  

Our daughter gifted us with our fourth grandson.  He is a beautiful, happy, and healthy baby boy.  We couldn't be happier (I mean, you know, without the whole family physically moving to South Texas to be nearby).

We have joined the Brownsville Historical Association.  Our first outing was a Murder, Mystery, Mayhem tour of the Old City Cemetery in downtown Brownsville.  The walk-thru started after dark and was very well done.  We had about a half dozen encounters with miscellaneous rascals, rogues, and scamps who were buried in the cemetery and portrayed by talented actors.  There are some chilling stories that come from setting up a town on the Mexican border!

Here's a couple of mugshots for you.  On the left, consort and I are dressed to attend a Kentucky Derby party.  On the right, we recycled the clothes for Halloween and dressed as zombie Ken and Barbie.

The weather here has really cooled off over the last couple of days.  Yes, it's definitely time to break out the winter coats as the temperatures drop into the 60s. (I know, I know.)  I decided it was time to bake.  On the left, a strawberry-rhubarb pie (thanks to DJ for the fresh rhubarb!).  In the middle, caramel corn (not a good idea to try to make caramel on a wet, rainy day.  Oh, the humidity!).  On the right, chicken pot pie (fairly unattractive, but consort says it was better than Marie Callendar's).  I seem to be in a baking contest with my neighbor four doors down.  I think he's winning, though.  He bakes bread and Cinnabons and BAGELS!! for goodness sake!  The man is a culinary genius!

And that's about it.  We're settled.  We're happy.  We're pleased with the house.  We're as busy as we want to be.  And for the most part, the sun is shining down on us.  Life is good.

On the stereo:  Mungo Jerry ~ Summertime

Reading:  A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury

On the TV:  Friday Night Lights