So I lied, everyone does it! (Or: Burning oil? Bah, it’s not so bad)

So I didn’t update my post on Friday like I said I would, it’s not like I have a huge following that actually READS my stuff or anything.

But, I will update now for my maybe one reader (Hi Hunny! IF he actually reads? Don’t think he does. Think I am my only reader). ANYWAY, Most of my last post was about my doctors appointment, and really, wasn’t a lot to add. Just some funny things the doctor did/said, but most of that has lost it’s appeal in the time that has past so I will just skip on to the non-thyroid part of life that happened on Friday night. (part of the reason I never updated)

The teen-aged bottomless pit was craving chicken fingers (homemade of course), so, being the amazing Mom I am, I walked him through how to make them, what seasoning works best, how to heat the oil etc. But the BEST lesson I taught him (because I am such a great Mom) is what NOT to do.

We had finished breading and seasoning and all that goopy fun stuff, and had moved on to the frying part. I was down to my very last batch, was JUST about to call the kid for one last lesson on colour and doneness when I could feel the tongs, which were in the oil trying to turn a piece of chicken over, slipping from my hand. Yep, The spring to open position tongs, were slipping from my hand while in the hot sizzling oil. Thankfully I have cat like reflexes and superpower instincts. (In my mind at any rate) It all happened so fast, I am not even sure of the exact details, just know I am very grateful I DO have instincts and fast reaction times (for an old lady. ~_^ ).

Keep in mind, what I am about to described, happened in about 3 or 4 seconds amount of time. I felt the tongs shifting in my hand, I tried to do a quick wrist twist to adjust them and get a better grip, it didn’t work, they were slipping and I could do nothing about it. It was going to spring open, and I couldn’t stop it. It was either keep my face over the oil, and try to use my other hand to grab it, risking a horrible grease fire from splashing oil (KNEW I didn’t have time to drop the oven mitt and make a grab for it), or try to move back as fast as I could to minimize the damage.

I choose the latter. The second I no longer had full grip of the tongs, I closed my eyes, held my breath, and tilted my head back while trying to step/fall backwards out of harms way. Unfortunately, It wasn’t enough time, the tongs sprung open and time began to move in double time, instead of slow motion as it had once I realized I was losing them. as the tongs sprung open, they dipped into the oil, flipped back (I assume) and scooped a crap ton (a tablespoon or so) of hot oil right into my face. I am very grateful I wear glasses, but only one drop of oil got on them? I was still stepping backwards, but as soon as the oil hit my face, I screamed a scream that I am sure would have the cops on my doorstep had my neighbours cared. At the exact same moment I covered my face, my hands were already coming up in a protective motion, now changed to a “OH DEAR GOD GET IT OFF” motion. I pivoted and grabbed across the room (must have been further back than time should have allowed for) for the towel I had been using to dry my hands. It was wet and oh so blissfully cold.

Now, by this time the pain had only marginally registered in my head, regardless of what the scream might have told anyone.

It felt like minutes, but was probably seconds, before I heard the husband and teen-aged pit gasp, “what’s wrong”, then another lifetime before they were to their feet and by my side. By that point, I was in a state of, what I can only assume is stasis, waiting for the pain to REALLY hit, and mentally assessing what had happened, and HOW! I am ALWAYS so damned careful! HOW could it have happened.

IT HIT! OH Dear sweet baby giraffes, it HIT! The pain! I wasn’t sure of where it had hit yet at that point, or how badly, just that I had pain, and it was somewhere on my face. I mumbled something about I think I am ok, and made for the bathroom to visually see what was going on and cold, oh please COLD water. As I peeked out from the towel The husband came in with a wonderful wet cold cloth.

It was sweet sweet relief as I put it on my face. Any time I removed it to find out just what damage had occurred, The pain would flash in anger at the air touching my face. It felt like the after shock of a slap combined with the intensity of fire ants on steroids.

I did manage to finally figure out what was burned and how bad, after what seemed hours, but in reality had just been 2 minutes since those tongs first fought me for freedom.

It looked bad. Really bad. My face was red, I had splotches of red on the red, and spots of white, and grease soaked hair (well, just my bangs). Once my mind cleared I realized that a good portion of the red was just from the rush and stress of what had happened, but the white skin on my nose was very real. The husband said “Hospital?” (Keep in mind, I will usually self doctor 90% of the time. Preferring to leave hospital visits to the weak husband and child *) I agreed, readily. Burns, especially on the face, are not something I want to mess with.

—Something to note here: Our hospital usually sucks ass. No, Sucks the balls of worms from an ass.

The services can be, and usually is, slower than a Kardashian solving a math problem. The staff can be more rude than a toddler left in the wild, and the doctors less sympathetic than a tick on dog. NO bedside manner, and ALWAYS suspicious of EVERYONE wanting drugs. Usually telling you outright that you are wrong to feel what you are feeling.

it is a hit and miss, usually 50/50. There ARE a tiny few doctors in this town that are great, and there ARE a few nurses (only 2 off the top of my head?) that are great. The receptionists … one for sure is amazing. mind,  the one I got was ok. Not rude, just no personality.

-Back on track now.

I was lucky. There was not a single soul in the waiting area OR the ER itself. I was their only patient for the night. The receptionist(s) working, one was the amazing, remembers everyone, lady, and the one I got was nice, but no real personality. (might have been new?) I got a great nurse, Paul I think his name was? Not even sure I’d remember his face, come to think of it? I was really trying to concentrate on making the pain stop. But he really took good care of me! (Thanks Paul!)

Now, the doctor, once I heard the name, I braced myself for a bad experience! It was the doctor who is partners with MY doc, the one who thought my thyroid symptoms were “not possible given the numbers I had”. Yeah! BUT, he surprised me! He has a great bedside manner in the hospital, was night and day.

Very gentle, caring. Hell! He even listened like he wanted to hear me.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot they could do. I had 2nd degree burns, mostly to the right nostril (a bit inside, but mostly outside) and the left side of forehead, with a few splashes, either side of my chin and right cheek. The nostril was the most painful. The doctor tried lidocaine cream, and Tylenol and ibuprofen (at same time!? never heard of that before). BUT, while I waited to see if the lidocaine would work, I could not put my cloth wrapped ice near my face.

THAT was when the pain took over. My usual pain cooping methods; Hands on face, grabbing hair (couldn’t even try that one), grabbing hair, biting hand, wiggling toes, jumping up and down (couldn’t do that either) — NONE worked.

— Another side note. I HATE crying, I do NOT cry (if I can help it) which is what I hate THE most about my fucking thyroid issues. I became a mess! It’s NOT because I think it makes me weak or anything. I just hate to cry! Almost an obsession really.

Well, I cried. Oh BOY did I cry. Not sobbing, or anything, just tears streaming down my face, soaking my shirt and even dripping on to the bed. I didn’t feel the need to cry, but I had no choice. My eyes and brain ganged up on me and made the pain feel even more intense. You know, even in child birth (and I ended up knocked out because of issues), I am not sure I felt anything like this? Not AS bad … but different, more intense. I know that makes no sense, but I have no idea how to explain the pain. I just no that with out that cold, the pain shot from a 9 (out of ten) to around 15. After about 10 minutes it finally calmed to around 9 and the tears stopped. By the time they released me (an hour after arriving), it was at a dull 7. by bed time, MAYBE a 1 – 2 if I bumped or scratched it.

Now, it hardly ever hurts. minor .00005 maybe when I blow my nose, bump it or scratch. It is peeling already, that stings at times. And when I put cream on it (Not lidocaine, only needed that for 2 nights) it stings like an SOB, maybe at 1 -2. (Note, I have a pretty high tolerance for pain!)

Yep, I will probably have some discoloured skin, but whatever, Just glad it is finally healing up. And I think I will leave the frying up to the husband for awhile!

* They are NOT actually weak! It is usually me forcing them to go. for a number of reasons: 1.)  It is something I find to gross to touch/deal with. 2.) Not something I am familiar with. 3.) Someone else can handle them.

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