Monday, November 7, 2011

yay hospitalization.

Boy do I have a story for you...

I've been wanting something substantial to blog about, but I guess it's one of those be careful what you wish for moments. Yesterday was Sunday. Nice, peaceful Sunday. I slept in till noon, even with the time change (it was homecoming weekend here at Baylor and it was hectic and busy and sleep depriving). I woke up pretty hungry, so I went to the kitchen. Then I got this idea. What would a deep-fried hot dog taste like? Unable to shake the idea, I tried to figure out what I could do to accomplish this. I didn't have the deep fryer I wanted from Walmart, so I had to improvise.

That's where it all went downhill. I started heating some oil, but the burner was up wayyyy too hot, so the pot I was heating it in burst into flames. In my kitchen. Like, a solid foot and a half of flame. I freaked out, naturally, because all I saw was this thing that was going to burn down my apartment. Door. Get it outside. Away from the apartment. Go. I grabbed the handle and got it outside, saving my apartment. But it came at a price... I kinda sacrificed myself in the process, as I splashed boiling oil on my hands, arms, knees, legs, and feet. In addition, when I got it outside, it fireballed right at my face, burning my lips and chin and burnt my hair, eyebrows, eye lashes, and most importantly, my chin stubble. I'm pretty sure I still smell like burnt hair.

So with 2nd degree burns all over me, and with a little convincing from a few friends, I went to the hospital. On the way I called my parents to tell them, and naturally they freaked out, dropped everything, and started the drive down from Dallas. I tried to tell them it really wasn't all that bad, but they didn't believe me. The first time I realized how serious it was was when I got to the hospital. They treat by triage, right? Well the waiting room was packed. Must have been 40 people waiting to get treated. Pretty much as soon as I finished signing in, they called me back. The lack of any wait wasn't a good sign.

The rest was pretty okay though. They cooled me off in a triage room, then stuck me in a real room where they bandaged me up. The best part of this whole experience had to be the irony. The name of my attending doctor just HAD to be Dr. Burns. I'm not kidding at all. It made me laugh for a good 5 minutes. My aunt happened to be driving through Waco, so she stopped by to see how I was doing. My parents showed up a little bit later and paid the $200 copay that happens when you go to the hospital (the reason I was considering not going...) and took me out to dinner and gave me some spending money. Maybe I should get hospitalized more often if I get free food and cash from it.

On top of all that, the doctor gave me Vicodin, with a prescription for even more, so all in all, I'd say it was a pretty successful day, even if it took me twice as long to type this with the bandaged hands. The worst part of this whole thing is that I have to miss the band trip tomorrow. They're going to the state marching contest and we're playing as an exhibition band. Seeing as I can't play because of my burned lips and I can't march because of the burns on my feet, it doesn't make sense to go.

Tuesday I have to go back to the hospital for a follow up appointment anyway... they said it was too soon to tell if some of them were 2nd or 3rd degree burns, so that'll be fun. As for right now though, the drugs make me tired, so I'm gonna go back to sleep.

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