Out in General

Well,

I called out for the first time.

Sometime last week I cut my thumb with my super-dooper safety company approved boxcutter.

My right hand is my dominant hand. You learn rapidly how often you use the index finger and thumb when you injure one or the other.

By yesterday my thumb was swelling up, hot to the touch and starting to leak puss. Pretty fucking gross.

I am so used to my body just freaking taking care of business, I barely recognized my own need to intercede.

I was listening to Black Autumn – Travelers. There is a chapter when one of the characters lays down her motorcycle and gets a pretty serious road rash.

Which gets infected. They get her to a doctor, and in the process of amputating her leg she dies.

And I started crying. Matt and Caroline had just fallen in love in the post-apocalyptic world that is Black Autumn.

I realized I was subconsciously worried about the implications of an infection – and the fact I have an implanted heart valve that requires a great big bag of amoxicillin before routine dental appointments.

So before I went to bed yesterday afternoon I took 2000mg of Amoxicillin, and 30mg of Oxy.

When I got up six hours later I was walking into walls.

Fucking Scotts-Irish bullshit, my first concern was “how do I go to work like this?”

I imagined climbing up the three stairs on a top-stock cart, losing my balance and breaking my neck.

I am a professionally trained aviation safety officer. Risk mitigation is sewn into my DNA.

So I called out.

Good news is, Amoxicillin is magic. I still have the cut on my right thumb, but the infection seems to be gone, and it is healing up nicely. The only reason I took the oxy was because 1) I had it and 2) every time I moved I hit my thumb which caused blinding pain.

It still weirds me out a little bit I had an emotional response to the death of a character in a novel. I just wanted her to live.

Now I am off to the music store in Topsham. Seeking professional help tuning my ’95 Ibanez Acoustic, which refuses to be tuned. 15 years after breaking every bone in my left hand I am feeling the urge to do a little Travis picking.