Farmer H, the bane of my existence, one day after outright trying to kill me (I'm pretty sure), let me down on Sunday. More on the attempted killing tomorrow, perhaps. The letting-down the day after tomorrow. YEP! You got yourself a 3-parter again!
Anyhoo...let the record show that Mrs. HM has a giant blister on the side of her leg. I'd show you a picture, but it's not pretty. It's on the outside edge of my left calf, about the size of an egg, full of clear fluid. Like I said, a blister. As if from a sunburn, friction from a rough shoe heel, or a burn. I have no idea how this happened!
My best guess is that I got too close to my underdesk heater for too long.
Wednesday evening, we got back from our six-hour drive (one hour added by a Farmer H detour, which will be discussed elsewhere). Riding in A-Cad, my legs take a beating. Not from Farmer H's sweaving knocking them around, but from being trapped in the car. Even with stops every two hours, my legs stiffen up terribly. Getting out is a chore, trying to bend my knees enough to get my feet out and on the pavement. One part of my left leg rubs against the frame of the car as I slide out. A-Cad is too low for running boards, but too high to simply step in or out.
Anyhoo...I remember rubbing my leg on the car frame when Farmer H let me out in the driveway. It didn't hurt any more than usual. When I changed into my lair clothes, I saw nor felt anything wrong. Sitting at New Delly, I had on the heater to take the chill off the basement. It gets nice and toasty. Even the old clear plastic mat for rolly-chair rolling has scorch marks on the wrinkles. I can't hold my hand down there for long, because it gets too hot. Like trying to hold your hand over a candle. Not that I've ever done that.
Anyhoo...sometimes my legs or ankles get an itch, and I use my telescoping metal backscratcher hand to scratch the itch, pulling up my blue sweatpants leg with the gray and white stripes. I'd done that a couple times. AHH! The relief! I was all toasty and scratched. As the heater would get too hot, I'd turn it off. Then back on when I got chilly. A couple times, I reached down to scratch my leg with my hand, since it wasn't out of range so far as to need the backscratcher.
About the time I was ready to call it a night, and move out to my OPC (Old People Chair), I reached down for a scratch. Huh. That felt weird. Like a knot. But squishy. Hm. Maybe I was getting a bruise from rubbing my leg on the side of A-Cad. Perhaps the heat had exacerbated the swelling. It didn't hurt. I thought no more of it. Didn't even look. Just a bruise.
The next morning, when I was up to use the facilities, I reached down to see if my knot had gone away. NOPE! It was a giant egg filled with fluid! A slight bruise above the area, but the knot itself was a big blister! It was just far enough around the side of my leg that I couldn't get a big bandaid on it myself. I couldn't see all the edges, to keep from sticking that 3 x 4 inch bandage on the fragile blistery part.
Farmer H followed my instructions to pierce that flap of skin with an alcohol-soaked needle, just to let the fluid out. Like you do a heel blister, if you're in college running five miles a day, breaking in new shoes. Leave the skin on for healing, but let the fluid out. It's not painful. Just weird.
Although Farmer H tried to utilize that method to kill me on Day 2...
4 comments:
I think Farmer H caused that blister somehow. How could he have done it?
Sioux,
I don't know HOW he could have done it, but I know how he tried to kill me with it once it was there! Maybe bumping it against the console with all his sweaving had something to do with weakening the skin's resistance...
How can you be too close to the heater and not feel the heat burning you? I'm a little stunned here, you could have burst into flame? Then where would we get our vicarious thrills while you're recovering in hospital?
River,
I actually felt a burning, but misinterpreted the origin. I had pulled up my pants leg to scratch with the metal hand. I thought I had maybe scratched a little too much, and the heat was burning those grooves from the metal fingers. The heat was so delicious, in the chill of my lair, making my aching knees feel better, that I didn't mind the burning. Until NOW!
I should have known to move away, or put my pants leg back down, when I noticed that I couldn't leave my hand down there more than about 15 seconds. And that the metal backscratcher hand was hot enough to brand somebody, after a short scratching session.
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