I fall into the category of, “if I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
On Saturday, I decided to mow the backyard first because it’s a bigger pain and then the front yard would seem like a breeze. I push mow, not ride, and it takes about 2.5 hours for the whole yard. At least it’s easy to get in my 10,000 steps and it’s a good time to write stories in my head.
I know my neighbor down the street, whose yard is mowed in a nice diagonal pattern, just shakes his head when he passes by and sees me mowing.
I mow in straight lines, but more in boxes to break up the monotony. The east end of the front yard gets mowed first because there’s a big ditch that’s a pain. Then I break the rest up into big rectangular patches, so it doesn’t seem like I have as much to mow. I do, but it’s just a mind thing.
I was mowing along the fence row in the back, minding my own business, but always in tune for creepy crawly things that might not be so welcome.
The next thing I know I have a two-foot wooden ski (fence plank) attached flatly to my right foot with a two-inch nail securely in my foot, no hammer needed. Ouch!
I didn’t freak out. I really don’t remember much about it. I do remember having to pull the board out of the bottom of my tennis shoe. At some point in all of this I’d let the handle go and the mower had died.
I made my way up to the deck, took off my shoe and surmised that my grassy, dusty sock-covered foot probably needed cleaning. I went in, stuck my foot under a warm stream of water, dried it off, put some antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid on it and went back out to continue mowing.
I still had the rest of the back yard and the entire front yard to mow. It wasn’t going to mow itself. When I finished I had logged 6.3 miles.
After posting a picture of the board/nail and asking about tetanus and lockjaw on Facebook, friends urged me to go get a tetanus shot. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one.
But before I could go, I had to clean up – shave my legs and paint my toenails (Pacific blue).
I came close to taking the board with me so the doctor would know what we were looking at.
Instead I took a photo of it and measured the length of the nail with my finger.
He couldn’t believe I’d actually pulled the board out myself and was surprised the nail hadn’t come all the way through my foot. Yikes!
He looked to make sure my toenails hadn’t turned blue, oops, did X-rays to make sure no rust or metal had come off in my foot, which it hadn’t, gave me a tetanus shot, which I never felt, and sent me on my way.
I’ve hobbled around, soaking my foot in epsom salts to try and take the hurt away.
But I wasn’t the most bizarre case the doctor had seen that day.
A very young child, running with a knitting needle, had fallen, impaling himself which punctured his right lung.
The doctor said if the needle had been turned the other way he would have probably punctured his heart.
And then there was the senior woman who had some issue with her cat and the garage door.
In the end, the cat didn’t make it and the lady ended up with stitches.
Guess I was lucky. I’ve gotten used to my klutziness and freak accidents. I’ve developed a tolerance for pain.
With a fresh tetanus shot, I’m good for the next five to 10 years. It’s already been suggested that I wear thick rubber boots in the future or wrap myself in bubble wrap.
Heads up, world, here I come. Please be gentle.
Beth Bunch is managing editor of The Hattiesburg Post and its sister publications, Signature Magazine, The Lamar Times and The Petal News. In her free time you will most likely find her out in her yard, hopefully not hurting herself.
Addendum: As I got out of my car in the office parking lot Wednesday morning and made my way to the door, I noticed a weird feeling from the sole of my shoe. I got inside and a rusty nail was sticking sideway (thank goodness!) in the bottom of my shoe. Brittany Purvis came to my rescue and pulled it out. I walked in my office to begin a busy press day at the paragraph factory and there in the floor of my office was a big nail. Is somebody trying to tell me something?
