I don’t, however, do body yucks. My son’s wiggly tooth? Bleck. Broken bones? Heeby jeebies. The worst is seeing peoples’ insides. I remember going into a full blown panic attack as a teen watching a surgery on TV. I. JUST. CAN’T. *shiver*
At the top of my Eeeew list?
One Sunday morning, long before the era of the children, my hubby was getting up for an early shift at work. While I love him deeply, there was no need for me to be up while he got ready for work. I slept cozily in my warm bed and only vaguely heard my husband grunt as he bumps into something. I think nothing of it, and go back to hanging out with my boyfriend, Mr. Sandman.
I hear my husband call to me, “Shan, come see this.” At 6am, still groggy, I’m unaware of what’s up. What does he want me to see in the bathroom? He could have drawn me a bubble bath or it could be new shoes; it could be a puppy.
He had his foot propped on the bathtub. I look. It was not a puppy.
By stubbing his toe on an ottoman, his toenail is sticking straight up to the ceiling. Yes, at a 90 degree angle from where nature intended his toenail to be. No warning, no heads up, just raw bare bloody under nail flesh.
I managed to not be completely useless, helping to get a sandal on him and getting him to the emergency. Hubby was a champ; he got the nail removed and all bandaged up with hardly a wince. If it were me, I would have been crying ugly tears; not out of pain, but due the fact my foot parts were rearranged.
So all you fine folks who are nurses, EMTs, doctors….my respect for you is profound. How you keep your shit together with all those guts, I just don’t know.