You’uns Got Some Pretty Teeth

That I even know the above phrase qualifies me to use it.

Before anyone gets offended, let it be known, that my family has been known to have reunions at rest-stops on the side of the interstate, and bring their pet snakes in a cooler with their Pabst Blue Ribbon to the country club.

Oh yes, I know good country people. And I appreciate them.

After my unfortunate buttocks tear on Sunday, I appreciate them even more.

BUT.

BUTT.

The butt story can only be concluded by telling you all about the hospital trip.

Picture it. I am dressed in a t-shirt and bloody, wet sandals.

That’s all.

No pants.

Coach insisted that pants would be ruined; so I traveled from the mountains to Blount County Hospital with a bath towel between my legs sort of like an unfastened diaper and a beach towel wrapped around my waist.

Okay, math lesson. I have two hands. It took one hand to apply pressure to the crevasse (oh the puns are uncanny aren’t‘ they? Get it uncanny? Ha ha ha. Nothing like being the butt of all the jokes. Okay, I know, enough, I’ll stop.) that I ripped in my rear. Another hand to hold the beach towel around my waist. And yet another hand to hold the towel that was between my legs to catch all the blood and stuff.

Coach pulls up to the doors of the waiting room, I tried to get out holding two different towels and the wound. I started to lose the towel until…

Crocodile Dundee showed up with a wheel chair. How odd to find someone with an Australian accent in the mountains of Tennessee.

Except that it wasn’t an Australian accent. Turns out it was the thickest Tennessee mountain dialect I know I’ve EVER heard.

After he commented on how pretty my teeth and skin were he asked me what I had done.

Me: “Icutmybuttopenonarockinariverinthemountains.”

Him: Laughs. Laughs again. Oh don’t worry…laugh, laugh, laugh…people do it all the time…laugh, laugh, laugh. You 21?

Me: (smiling) Me? No, I’m not 21 you sweet thing. (Actually not what I said because I do believe I was in shock- actually all I said was “no, I did this completely sober.”)

Him: How big is the cut?

Me: Don’t know, don’t want to know. (At this point Coach gets behind me to tell the man-nurse using hand gestures and distorted facial expressions that it’s really big- and I pretend to be oblivious. I continue to pray that my denial of the situation will heal it. No luck.)

Him: Let’s take a look.

Me: Yeah right.

Him: Seriously, I’m a nurse and a volunteer fireman.

Me: Now bolstered with more confidence in the medical profession than ever, I tell him: “NO MATTER WHAT, just tell me it’s not that bad.”

Him: “Oh, it’s not that bad.” Then he passed out.

Oh I kid. But he wanted to, and then he disappeared never to be seen again until the second male nurse came in to actually stitch me up.

And I must ask- where on earth are all the female nurses? Because I am not even a little bit happy that I had to bare my butt to not one, but two male nurses.

Enter man-nurse #2. I am face down on a gurney. He lifts up the blanket and towel and gasps. “HOLY COW! What did you do?”

Me: “You are supposed to say it’s not that bad.”

Him: “How bout I tell you I think I can fix it?” Did you catch the “THINK” in that statement?

Me: “How bout I tell you where to stick it?” Again, I kid, but my patience was growing thin.

Man nurse commenced to begin sticking and sewing all the while talking to Coach about ATV’s and bow-hunting elk or antelope or something in New Mexico or Alabama- I really don’t know.

What I do know is this: if I ever find myself in a situation that has me sitting with Coach in the emergency room while he needs medical attention, you can darn sure bet that I am going to find myself a female nurse and talk myself into a frenzy over the pros and cons of the empire waisted dress, and maybe enter into a debate over whether or not to buy brown boots or black? And do I want suede or leather because I mean really…. REALLY…talking about bow hunting while a strange man sews up your wife’s arse? SERIOUSLY!!!!

I dared to interrupt. “How much longer?”

Nurse man replied “Not much longer, I’m just trying to figure out a way to sew up the chewed up part without leaving you a nice scar.” (Yes, he really did say “chewed up part”)

Me: “My wearing a thong in public days are over, I’m not so worried about a scar, let’s just move along.” (Note: my wearing a thong in public days NEVER started- I generally keep my bottom to myself.)

So Man Nurse finished, a couple of orderlies had a good laugh while they dressed the wound, thus taking the count of strangers who saw my rear end to about 75, and I got my pain medicine, surgical pads, and antibiotics and ran…to the car…where I had to sit on my newly sewn-up rear for 3 hours on the drive home.

And the rest, my friends, will be recorded in the annals of history. (Sooooo sorry for that one, BUTT I just couldn’t resist)

See y’all!

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1 Comment on You’uns Got Some Pretty Teeth

  1. Brittany Ann
    September 10, 2009 at 10:47 am (8 years ago)

    OH, I love the puns! So good! Seriously, though, the “chewed up part?” I’d have passed out and then screamed bloody murder. You are tough, lady! You handled those male-nurses like a pro!

    Reply

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