Tuesday, May 03, 2011

The Finger

I'd better do that response to the ebay guy before I walk into another room and get distracted by what's hidden in the cupboards I've not yet dared to open.

"Come on Milly, let's pop outside." Yep, that's right. Hook that metal thingy on the end - it'll hold, I'm sure it will and grab that pen out of your mouth to take notes and run it along the back of the kayak to the other end and then we'll find out how long it meas--------

Thwackatta Thwackatta zzzzzziip SLAP!

Flying fried fudge flickin' farnacles, I'm literally seeing white sparklers in front of my eyes and feeling as though another two are being rather roughly shoved up each nostril in a crude attempt to give the frontal lobe a bit of a nudge and make doubly sure that all my nerve endings are feeling the effects..... having a metal measuring tape whip back and cruelly crack my infected middle finger hurt. Really really hurt.

The smoking guy on the level two balcony next door heard my agonised sob and saw me doubled over and shuffle crab-like back inside like a shrivelled blonde Shelob before turning his head back to look at the Dodgy Brothers Car Renovators continue their argument in the side street. I guess the issue of whether you'd root Megan Fox or Beyonce is pretty vital viewing.

After a night of tossing and turning in such a way that my middle finger stayed outside the covers like a flesh-coloured fishing pole, today it was time to see the doctor. Large and ET-like at the best of times, today my rude finger (as Sapphire calls it) resembled the celluloid alien's actual head on the end of my finger with its own painful pulse.

Trouble is. the half-hearted health hub we've used for the past two and a bit years is closing down next week and it seems that they can no longer be shagged to answer their phones or - as I discovered this morning - open their doors. I managed to catch Love Chunks at the next set of traffic lights and clamber back in the car.

There was no way I was going to risk my delicate digit to the ministrations of Dr Dodgy in Welly Street. He's infamous around Flemington and LC has never gotten over how I booked him in there for an urgent grease and oil change two days after we arrived: the broken window, slightly rude receptionist wife and slapdash approach to knowledge and professionalism is still the order of the day. LC remains convinced that shivering anatomy served as the street's entertainment that afternoon and still shudders every time he passes by.

No, I was going across the road to Travancore to beg the fancy doctor to see me. He's the guy that everyone says, "Oh yes, I see Dr Divine but he's closed his books now, so I don't know what I'd do without him." Me either, and I'd never got past the clipped, "Sorry, we're not taking new patients" of January 2009.

Feeling ever so slightly tearful as I toddled past the mechanic where Maggie the magna was getting her roadworthy overhaul done, I pushed open the medic's door; brass bell a dinga linga linging.

I decided that a visual was the best way to get the attention of the woman behind the counter and walked in brandishing what looked like a swollen and very angry red version of The Bird.

"Hello my name is Kath and I usually got to Half-Hearted Health Hub on Racecourse but they're shutting down and we're moving to Switzerland in exactly three weeks to the day and somehow I've infected my finger, no that's a lie, I know how I did it because I shred the cuticles around my nails and finally I've got the result I probably deserve but it is making things like taking DVDs out of their covers and into plastic sleeves and packing boxes pretty hard and I'm hoping - no, actually I'm begging you; you seem like a very kind hearted and reasonable person - to get me looked at today---------"

She held up a hand to stop me. Lord knows I couldn't. "How does lunchtime sound?"

It sounded utterly brilliant. I skipped out of there - well I tried, but the pulsating weight of my Rude Finger meant that I instead lurched slightly to the left and found myself falling inside the laundromat next door before altering my stride to make it back home across the road.

A couple of hours later Dr Divine said, "You're not a fainter, are you?"

Nope. Never have been. Had enough blood tests due to the 'ol tumour that I can tell you exactly what vein to shove the needle in and gleefully watch as you do it.

Well ram my sorry soggy arse up against a poo encrusted mini skip and call it Tony Abbott what the hell are you-----

"Sorry about that, I have to lift up the nail and puncture the skin around it a few times to let some pus out, so it'll sting a bit."

No sparklers today; this time the cartoon tweety birds made an appearance.

Back home with an arm no longer dragging on the ground and the simple bliss of soaking the finger in a cup of warm salty water whilst trying to type out 'self contained accommodation, pet-friendly, Geneva' is a simple pleasure.


Pandora Behr said...

Gawd - you really have been in the wars! Need anything, just shout.

Take care of yourself.

Vanessa said...

Youch! But I do love a good pus story - it's the nurse in me. Love a good wound.

Marie said...

Oh no! I'm afrais thatt I am a fainter and I had to take a lie down with a Bex simply after reading that. I think I would have gone along to the vet and asked to have myself put down rather than face what you did. You are a brave woman.

One day you will look back and laugh, but I imagine that will be a way down the track yet. Thinking of you and the next few weeks of tearing around like a mad thing. I suspect that finger will be getting quite a workout.

The Plastic Mancunian said...

G'Day Kath,

One word - AAAARRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!! I wish I wasn't squeamish.




P.S. Word verification is "cysathyp" which has two meanings:

(a) It is the official term for the noise the metal thing made.

(b) It is the official term for the noise you made.

Helen said...

Oh typical! It's because you're moving and have to pack, you know.

Now I don't know how sociable Milly is with other dogs but here is an urgent PSA: Watch out for kennel cough - might be a good idea to stop Milly touching noses out in the park/street for a while. Our vet says there's an outbreak at the moment. She's not wrong, the guy before us' adorable wolfhound had it and the receptionist said her dog had it. Ollie is on meds & sounds like something out of a horror movie. Needless to say it would be an issue if he had to fly to Switzerland.

The Elephant's Child said...

Ouch. OUCH. ouch. While it is amazing the relief that is obtained from pus drainage the pain that needs releasing is equally amazing. Look after it and yourself as much as you can.

Achelois said...

Ow followed by yeuk followed by poor poor you. I sincerely hope said finger gets better asap.

Cat J B said...

Oh, ouch. OUCH!

Kath Lockett said...

Thanks Pandora. Went to bed last night for an hour with chest pains that were frightening to say the least. LC dragged Sapph out of bed so that they could take me to the A&E at Royal Melbourne. Heart and blood all OK - turns out that I've ruptured/strained my oesophagus from violent vomiting over the weekend. Yep, Mr Migraine's long-delayed three day visit is the one that keeps on giving!

More pus today, Vanessa and I might just prick the finger in a couple of places myself to ease the gunk out....

Thanks Marie. Even during it all I find it pretty funny, but last night's five and a half hours in the A&E is still being 'processed' before I can write about it in any comprehensibe or vaguely interesting form.

Thanks PlasMan - 'cysathyp' - pretty well sums up the only word I was able to speak when I got home at 5.30am this morning!

Helen, you'll be relieved to know that Milly's just had all of her 'shots' (incl rabies) and will be heading straight to the hotel/apartment (fingers crossed we can actually *find* one) when she arrives. As for touching other dogs' noses; we actively avoid it because she's not very nice to them. In her word there'd be no dogs except her and a heap of friendly humans.

Thanks EC. My chest is still hurting from last night and feels like I've swallowed a stick that's twisting around every few minutes or so to wake me up. Still, perhaps it's an enforced 'slow down'?

Thanks Achelois; you too CatJB!

River said...

Your mistake was not taking action soon enough.
Keep it there for a minute or two, repeat at intervals throughout the day. In between dunks, keep a bandaid on it to keep it clean and to stop further nibbling of cuticle.

Hannah said...

You poor, poor thing. Having spent 18 months at the miserable beck and call of my infected toe, I'm so glad to hear your finger is healing without having to go through two surgeries that didn't really fix anything at all until you spent two months going to the nurse at your doctor's twice a week for treatment... but I digress...

Helen said...

I had to do that with my leg the other day (but at least I had a friendly vet there to help out).

word verification 'foark'

Baino said...

You typed that long post with 9 fingins? You're a mutant. Although the needly pus thing made my knees a little wobbly. Very funny account and I know exactly what you mean about miserable Doctor's receptionists. . . we have a canteen lady, just like that.

Vanessa said...

More pus? Damn, I wish I lived closer. If you are keen to puncture it yourself, buy a splinter removal needle from chemist. Sterile, and really sharp, like a medical needle. Poor you, take care of you or you won't arrive in one piece x

nuttynoton said...

Mrs NN loves squeezing the puss out of spots so she would be ideal for this, sounds like your trip ended not as well as planned ,but hope you are on the mend. As usual your descrioption is brilliant

WV - gantical, sounds like a combination of cutical and something not nice like you have had!

Wally The Walrus said...

Oh jeez, I'm laughing an crying at the same time. Talk about in the wars. But its amazing the relief at letting the pus out.

And (eeewwww) having punched a few holes to drain it, keep at it for a few days (Savlon / Dettol help) and it will improve awfully quickly.

I'm amazed the Doc didn't put you on antibiotics.

Kath Lockett said...

Never fear Wally, I got a tetanus shot and I'm on antibiotics :)