Fire + Me = Bad

Its no surprise to anyone that I am not graceful and that the most dangerous place for me is the kitchen. I often have burns and cuts and in need of a constant supply of first aid. So I am not sure why I was surprised that I gave myself a 1st degree burn on my stomach while cooking a turkey.

Yup, that's right I burned my stomach. Even though I was there and know what happened I am still confused by the whole thing.

On Sunday I decided to cook a turkey for dinner. I thought I was being very clever....cook a turkey for dinner then freeze the rest of the meat and pull it out for a quick casserole dinner over the next few weeks. See clever.

I wasn't doing anything fancy with the turkey; I didn't stuff it, I didn't brine it, I just rinsed it off and threw it in the oven.  Okay I add some chicken broth and rosemary and basil but beyond that I really did NOTHING...I really am lazy in the kitchen.

Now for some reason I can not explain I always cook my turkeys breast side down...I am pretty sure I read somewhere that cooking a turkey this way will keep the breast meat from drying out. But what ever my reason about 30 minutes before it was suppose to be done I decided I wanted to turn the turkey breast side up to brown up the turkey.

So I carefully remove the turkey from the oven and placed it on my stove. I them got two forks to gently flip the turkey...unfortunately one of the forks slipped causing the turkey to fall and splashed in what I am guessing was 325 degree turkey juice. This really hot turkey juice then splashed on me and all over my stove.

I screamed, which caused The BF to run to the kitchen and ask "What happened?"

I tell him I burned myself, he looked at as I am standing weirdly in the kitchen pulling my clothes away from me and asks, "Where?" So I lifted up my shirt and look at my stomach which is red and painful.

I ask The BF to turn the turkey and calmly change my shirt. When I come back he has the kitchen all cleaned up the kitchen so I grabbed the ice pack and sat down on the couch.

The rest of the evening I was dazed and in pain. I was so out of it that as we were dishing up dinner The "pseudo" step-daughter informed me I forgot to take a picture of dinner and offered to not eat any bites on her plate until I took a picture. She can be very sweet, I told her go ahead and eat I wasn't going to blog about tonight's dinner...I guess I should have taken the picture.

The next morning I look at my stomach and realized that my burn looks like an abstract painting of a Y-Chromosome...my life is really to odd for words.

The burn isn't all bad except one part in the middle that was slightly raised but not blistered. So I guess that means I will survive to cook again.

Three of a Kind, Working on a Full House

As you may have heard I broke my wrist, (in case you haven't heard you can check out my story here), but in my family one brake is never the end of the story. We like to do everything in threes.

My sister and her removable brace. I hate her.

You see in an attempt to be just like me my sister, The Health Nut, broke her wrist also. She has a much better story than I do (I need to stop admitting what happened and come up with a better story).

Honestly we don't know for sure it is broke her had was very swollen and the ER doctor wants her to see a orthopedic doctor to be sure but there is a really good chance its broken. Same wrist different bone.

And now my mom has just informed me that one of my nieces fell and broke her right wrist.

I don't know all the details about her fall but its obvious she is related by blood and a complete lack of grace.

Poor thing.

I wonder who is next?

Coincident?

Last night while I was cuddled up with The BF I had a revelation.

• Me: Honey do you realize that since I have met you I have been in the E.R. twice and broke my wrist.
• The BF: What?
• Me: Remember I cracked my head open on a shelf, my appendix ruptured and now I have broken my wrist.
• The BF: None of that was my fault.
• Me: I know but it has all happened since we started dating.
• The BF: I didn't do anything.

But now I'm wondering if there is some cosmic message I am missing. 

Okay maybe not but its a weird coincident don't you think?

This post took me 20 minutes to type...I'm getting better at one hand typing.

Believe it or Not!

Yesterday I told you all about how I fell while wearing a cute pair of wedges.

What I may not have fully expressed is the constant throbbing in my wrist since that fall. Or the radiating pain in my fingers, elbow and shoulder.

But since I could move all my fingers and wrist I figured I had sprained my wrist and it was no biggie...I painted, typed and went about my life despite the increasing pain.

Then today I debated should I or shouldn't I go to the Dr. I was sure it was sprained or badly bruised but was it hurting bad enough to pay a copay at the Drs office?

Then I called my mother...who told me that I should go to the Dr just in case. This is not what I wanted to hear from my mom. I called hoping she would tell me, "Stop being so damn soft," or "Stop being so silly". So I was very disappointed when she told me to go to get a x-ray.

So after debating it with her for a minute, I called the Dr's office to see if they could get me in tomorrow. But after talking to the office personal and telling them my mother told me to see a Dr they told me if I can get in there right now the Dr can see me.

So I zoom to the Drs, joke with all the staff about my mom making me go to the Dr and before I can even fill out the paper work they take me back.

While the Dr exams my hand he begins to tell me that I could have injured a little bone, the scaphoid, in my hand that is often mistaken as a sprain. He then goes into detail telling me that if this brake goes untreated you have to have surgery that may result in a bone graft. But he doesn't think its broke but to make mom feel better we decide to x-ray it just in case.

So I have x-rays and rather quickly the Dr is back in the room wanting to show me the break in my scaphoid bone.

Yup thats right its broken.

After making a quick call to tell my mom that she may have missed the ruptured appendix but she nailed the broken wrist, I am whisked to another room and they ask me what color of cast would I like.

I would like to say that I was a model patient at this point but all I could do was laugh.

Every time they wrapped the hot pink fiberglass around my wrist I laughed.

Every time the nurse smiled at me I laughed.

When the Dr said its good I listen to my mom, I laughed.

For the next two weeks I have to wear this cast then they will take it off, take more x-rays and then probably put on another cast.

Is it weird that I'm a little excited that I finally broke something and get to wear a cast?

Is it equally weird that not being able to move my thumb is causing me to have anxiety?

Irony You are a Pair of Shoes

Recently I told you about an eventful trip (pun intended) to the local mega store when I lost my footing and fell. I injured my hand and dropped my phone and fully embarrassed myself on the security cameras (I wouldn't be surprised to see the whole thing on youtube).

Well on Friday I once again lost my footing. This time it was not at the store in front of the security cameras but in front of my office building in front of the security cameras.

It was just a little fall and I caught myself before my whole body hit the pavement.

Unfortunately for me I stopped myself with the same hand I hurt the last time I fell. And while I thought it was no big deal my wrist 5 days later is still throbbing and it hurts when I move it.

And while I am debating the merits of going to the Dr for an Xray and trying to decide if I should tell my mom, I realize one very important itty bitty fact. I was wearing the same shoes both times I fell. I am not saying it was the shoes, I fall a lot, but maybe next time I wear them I should be sure to hold on to the railing for my own protection.

I know some of you are saying maybe I should toss the shoes....but common these shoes are to cute not to wear. And wear often!!!!

Live or Let Die

Its been awhile since I have written a post like this one. In fact I thought that maybe, just maybe I had changed and I was finally starting to be graceful.

Okay maybe not graceful but less clumsy. I still cut and/or burn myself when I am cooking and I often walk into walls or "bump" into the corner of my desk. But I haven't had any real injuries in awhile. 

That was until the last 24 hours....It has been a very eventful 24 hours.

Last night while walking through the local mega store, I was checking out a patio furniture display. As I turned away from the furniture I lost my footing and fell. I am pretty sure that my texting and walking while wearing a pair of slingback wedge shoes had nothing to do with me falling. When I landed I put my hand out to stop my fall . 

This however did not my stop me from falling...I know I was shocked also. What it did do was cause me to jam my wrist. I also landed on my knee and on my elbow on my other arm. The worse part was that I dropped my phone and it went in 3 different directions. Despite my injuries and being in pain, my main concern was of course my phone.

Then not 30 minutes ago I tripped over a small decorative garbage can. Once again I put my arm out to stop my fall...(why do I keep doing that it doesn't stop me from getting hurt). And I smacked my arm against the edge of the window sill. 

I have bruises every where.

Add to all of this the burst blood vessel in my eye and any day now I am expecting the casting director of The Walking Dead to call and ask me to be an extra on the show because I wont need any make up.

Some things never changes.

Damn that Grace or A Day in The Life of Me: Part 1

This morning did not start out great....I woke up about 2AM with a headache so I crawled out of bed in hopes on finding some aspirin, on my way back I stepped over one of our many dogs but just as I was in the clear the dog lifted his head up and I whacked me toe on his head!!!! Talking about hurting, the dog was fine (I am not even sure which one it was) but my foot was killing me. It is the same foot that has the hurt toe that I may or may not have broken.

After going back to bed and sleeping a few more hours I drag myself out of bed to officially start my day. I know I have mentioned I have a dog or three and they are always very excited to get up in the morning. You see because we have 3 VERY large dogs for our sanity we keep them locked up in the bedroom at night. So after I got up and washed my face it was time to take the dogs out. 

Now I an very careful when I do this...it can be dangerous when three 70-100 lbs dogs are running down the stairs. Its like a mini stampede!!!! So I let the dogs run down the stairs and I follow them when I get almost all the way down, with only 3 little stairs left, with no explanation I fall down the stairs. Landing at the bottom!!!

Yup that's right I fell down my stairs and to make matters worse all three dogs run to me and start licking my face....talk about oh so very GROSS!!!!!

But wait it doesn't end there later this morning I was walking up the stairs and I tripped going up them almost landing on my face in the process. On my way down, in an attempt to stop the inevitable, I slammed into the wall hitting the light switch. I have no doubt by tonight I will have a new bruise from the switch and I am not 100% sure I didn't break the switch. (Don't tell The BF about that....I am planning on playing dumb if it is broken.)

I really thought I was getting better at being graceful... don't get me wrong I always have a new bruise from furniture I walk into or burns from cooking or cuts from preparing to cook or walls that I swear move but I really thought the worst of it was over.....Guess not.

I should go dig out the bubble wrap again.

Dumb Stuff I Do or Grace is Not My Middle Name!!!

Honestly I don't know what comes over me sometimes. I seem to think that I have the ability to do anything I want to do. And in some areas of my life that is true if I come up with a crazy idea I can do it. But other areas not so much. In fact its possible I need to have my head examined before making a decision.

Take this weekend. It was the first kid free weekend The BF and I have had in awhile. I was hoping for some romance and quite time The BF had other ideas. He wanted to go mountain biking. Yup that's right after 19 months of dating he thought it would be a good idea to take ME mountain biking.

And maybe this would not be a bad idea if I had been on a bike any time in say the last 21 years but this was not the case. Or maybe it would have been a good idea if hell froze over but its pretty hot around here so I am thinking it didn't.

So after much nagging and begging and I promise I will take you on an easy trail I agreed to go mountain biking...like I said earlier I need to have my head examined before I make some decisions.

I told The BF if I am doing this I need sunblock and bug spray. That was easy he always has those on hand for when he wants to take a day trip to the mountains. Then I said we need a 1st aid kit. This let to an argument a discussion about if we really need a 1st aid kit after impressing upon The BF the importance of being prepared he brings me his idea of a 1st aid kit.

• "Baby, this is not a 1st aid kit."
• "Yes it is."
• "No its not. This is neosporin and band-aids. We need splints and compression bandages because I am going to end up in the ER and we will be miles from the hospital."
• "Your such a Drama Queen."
• "Shut-up."
• "You Shut-up."
• "No you Shut-up."

I am often amazed at out matured level. Moving on.

After a very pretty and long drive (and by long I mean 35 minutes) we arrived at our destination. After unloading and preparing which included a lot of eye rolling from me, we set off on what was sure to be a disastrous trip.

At first it wasn't so bad I was even able to take a few blurry pictures. I started thinking hey they are right once you learn to ride a bike you never forgot. But then the terrain got bumpier and steeper. So I put the camera away and started focusing on the ride when disaster strikes.

I don't know what happened, its one of those weird mysteries of my life (like how did I get tomato soup on the ceiling fan or how did my car get wrecked parked in front of my house) but I fell of the bike. I would like to say this was a surprise, after all I am very graceful and never lose my footing. But fall I did. And not just a little fall NOOOO!!! I am sure you heard the crash from miles away.

I look down and I can see my knee is already bruising and swelling up. I bravely get back on the death trap of a bike and ride it back to the truck. The BF catches up to me and asks are you ok. I just look at him and explain that I am done mountain biking. I am never getting on that bike again. And patiently wait for him to unlock the truck so I can sit in the cab of the truck.

On our way home he says, "You need to practice on the bike on sidewalks and the road so I can get use to the bike then we can go riding again."

After counting to 10 several times I said, "Sweetie what part of I am never getting on that bike again didn't you understand."

Its apparent we are going to have to break up!!!

Attack of the Killer Pizza

I am seriously the most unfortunate girl sometimes. I am not sure why the fates have plotted against me; I have tried to be a good person. None the less they have or at least it’s the only explanation I can come up with as to why the stuff that happens to me happens to me. Because trust me the events that happened last night would not happen to anyone else but me.

Last night I received a text from my sister asking me to pick up something for dinner. Since I am cheap and tired I decided to get the $5 pepperoni pizza deal at Papa Murphy’s. I would like to say that this is not my go to dinner when I am tired and stressed but it is and I eat it once a week. And I have the cooking of a Papa Murphy’s pizza down to an art but last night something went terribly wrong.

I didn’t burn down the house or accidentally cook the cat but it was equally bizarre. Let me break it down for you…

After coming home; I unwrapped the pizza and put it in the oven (my sister had preheated the oven). After the 15 minutes I opened the oven and pulled out the oven rack but the pizza had stuck to the back of the oven. What you say? How is that possible?…hell I don’t know. But yes it was stuck to the back of the oven and since I had pulled the oven rack out the pizza started to fold in half and fall. So I tried to push the oven rack back in the oven to stop the pizza from falling but to late the pizza fell but it was also still stuck to the back of the oven.

I then tried to “unstick” the pizza and burned the top of my hand on the oven. I did manage to get the pizza lose but it is now sitting on the bottom of the oven, but at least it is right side up.

I stand there for a second trying to figure out how to get the pizza out with out further burning myself…realizing that my only option is to be very careful I reach in (I had on oven mitts) and tried to get my pizza. At this point I burn my arm on the oven racks (note to self remove racks next time pizza falls to bottom of oven).

After finally getting the pizza out I notice at some point the hot cheese on one side had slid to the middle of the pizza, I quickly mush it all back in place and pretend like nothing had happened.

I told you that it would not happen to anyone but me.

This Little Piggy Cried Wee Wee all the Way Home.

For weeks now I have been in pain. My foot hurts all the time. No matter what shoes I am or am not wearing I am in pain. It started out as a little pain, an inconvenience really but as time has gone on it hurts more and more.

At first I thought it was some bizarre exercise injury. To me this made perfect sense after all Julian Michaels is a bitch of task master even if you are just working out to her DVD. She makes you feel guilty for not going all out and working hard (which is weird because she’s not really going to know if you "phone it in”) even if your foot hurts and any task that involves jumping is shooting pain through your foot and up your leg.

Then about a week ago I notice a bruise forming around my little piggy that stayed home on my left foot. You know the kind of bruise that is black and deep. I was confused for a day or two until I remember I stubbed my toe really hard. So hard I actually sat down on the ground holding that little piggy with tears running down my cheeks.

I am not sure why it took me so long to make 2+2 = 4 but I now have that little piggy taped up between my piggy that went to market and the piggy that had roast beef. And my foot is starting to feel better.

Last Time I did this I Ended Up in the E.R.

Last night I packed a box of books and DVDs. As I was tapping the box up I had what I am know calling PTSD flashback but others may call a memory of taping up boxes last summer. Then I started to remember all the accidents that occurred last time I moved.

The shelves falling on my foot (I swear my foot started to hurt and turn purple at the memory of the trauma), falling down the stairs, scrapping up my leg, furniture falling on me bruising the whole side of my body and my grande finale hitting my head and ending up in the E.R.

As Tigger, the cat I was saving, and I stare into the bathroom mirror, the same mirror where I first inspected my head wound, I still see the fading scar running horizontally across my forehead. The shock and pain comes rushing back and I feel faint. I sit down on the floor and take a deep breath.

I no longer want to move.

Overwhelmed by Grace....again!!!

This weekend The BF and I decided to clean out his basement. What seemed like a mole hill in fact turned into a mountain.

The 1st step was to get all the baby equipment into the truck so we could take it to the local thrift store. The BF wanted to have a yard sale and I explained that means you have to store everything some where until the yard sale so that idea was quickly vetoed. After the 1st truck load of stuff was dropped off we realized that there were 5-6 boxes of stuff his ex-wife and my friend still had at his house. So after some logistical planning and some frustration on everyone’s part it was arranged that she would come by that afternoon and pick up her boxes.

Then after further digging we found boxes and boxes and boxes of BABY clothes!!!!!! Apparently The BF and Ex-Wife/My Friend had kept all of their 2 kid's baby clothes. The reasoning was sound they thought they might have more kids not get divorced. I wanted to drop everything off at the thrift store but The BF decided to call The Ex-wife/My Friend and see if she wanted the clothes. She did. Not to keep all of them (I don’t think) but she did want to keep a few outfits that have special meaning.

Why am I telling you all this??? Because in the process of moving stuff I got a black eye!!!!!

I only have a little black eye barley even worth a mention at all. It’s hard to notice without make-up and not at all with make-up on. I also have bruise on my forearm, shin, thigh, ETC!!!!!

I don’t remember how I got these bruises but I do remember how I got the black eye. I was moving a baby swing. And I forget that I am ONLY 5'1" and I lifted the swing to place it in the back of the truck when the swing swung forward and whacked me in the face.

My eye is now a little puffy and a lot tender and putting make-up on was slightly unpleasant this morning. The BF asked why I was putting make up if it hurt. I looked at him like he was nuts, of course I was putting make-up. Boys are so weird.

Grace has struck again…I am truly a walking disaster.

My BF is MacGyver's Long Lost Son

Apparently you can still learn something new about your BF even if you have been dating for a year. For instance you can learn that your BF is MacGyver's love child. After spending the week with him and his kids I am convinced that My BF could build a nuclear reactor out of a candy wrapper, gun powder and duct tape.

I spent the last week of 2010 with My BF and his kids. We had an enjoyable week full of laziness, movies and candy. Since I knew I was going to be there for an extended stay I brought with me all the trappings to make my green drink except of course for the blender. I knew that he had a Magic Bullet Express Blender. A very handy gadget that's great for all sorts of things. If you don't believe me just stay up late one night until you see the infomercial and you too will be ordering one to replace the heavier clunkier kitchen gadgets you currently own. *wink* Everything was going great until New Years Eve Day, when I decided to make some Green Drink and the Magic Bullet Express DID NOT WORK. And no amount of shaking, banging or pleading was going to make it work. I was all upset that I would not have anymore Green Drink until I returned home. The BF was upset because I broke his Magic Bullet. I was not sure this was that big of a deal I mean I break stuff all the time. Just ask my mom how many electric can openers she's had to replace or how many kitchen items I have destroyed but The BF was very upset. So I decided I will go buy a new one for him and he decided to take the Magic Bullet apart to see what I had done to the thing.

Knowing that I have a long history of breaking things permanently I figured that the thing was not going to work and my stress of replacing it was steadily increasing with every, "Babe, how did you do that." and "Babe, Babe..what did you do." Plus its not that easy to just find the power base. They want you to buy a whole new kit. Soon I was on eBay looking for used Magic Bullets when I hear the magical wwwhhhrrrrr sound of an appliance fixed. Seriously its fixed. I have no idea how he did that. No one has ever been able to fix anything I have broken which is why I believe he is the Love Child of MacGyver. I am also more and more convinced that this is truly the guy for me. Just think of all the money I will save on not having to replacing every gadgets/machine I brake. The question now is what will I brake next.

That Grace has Returned



3yr old niece

Last night I was hanging/babysitting 2 of my very cute nieces when  Grace, my alter ego decided to pay us a visit. While we were all watching a movie the 3yr old had fallen asleep and had woken up very clingy and needy. She keep saying "I hold you I hold you." This means you get to hold her and she will cuddle you. And to be honest this is very nice and one of the best things about being an Auntie.

Soon the BF called and while we were talking my sister called and said I am on my way home will you put some dinner in the oven for me. I clicked back over to the BF and tried to put the 3yr old down but she held on to me saying "I hold you I hold you." Since I am a good Aunt I picked her up and took her with me to cook some dinner for my sis. I then threw some dinner in the oven and started the oven all while taking to the BF and holding a 3yr old. Thats when every thing went south.

Bosco

You see my sister's 100lbs black lab Bosco had decided to lay down in the middle of the kitchen floor. I turned to return food to the fridge and I stepped down on his paw. So I tried to step over him but ended up slipping on a blanket and started to fall forward. I immediately dropped the food I was holding wrapped my arms around my cute little niece and throw myself backwards so I would land on my backside and not forward. So now I am sitting in the kitchen floor my legs bend at an odd angle (not broken odd just odd) very stunned and The BF is saying "What Happened? Are you okay? Michael are you there?" I Immediately said "Honey I'm ok but I need to call you back" and then hung up on him. I guess I couldn't figure out what to do next and talk to him at the same time. Side note the BF is a really good boyfriend to not be mad that I just hung up with no explanations.

After a few seconds that felt like 10 minutes. I turned my niece around to look at her and asked if she was okay. She put her little hands on my cheeks and said "I'm okay Mikool. I am okay. Are you okay?" (Mikool is how she says my name like she has a mouth full of marbles. I really hope she always says my name like this because a Girl named Mikool sounds way more fun than a Girl named Michael). At this point the 8yr old niece runs into the kitchen "What happened" I explain "I fell. Will you please put the food in the fridge so that Bosco will not eat it." She again asks If I am okay. Still a little shaken I say I think so. "Are you getting up?" she asks. "Not just yet", I say.  I slowly put the 3yr old on her feet and stand up. At this point I am pretty sure I will be making a visit to the chiropractor but I pick the 3yr old up, hug the 8yr old and say we are missing our movie and walk back in the living room. I call the BF back and tell him what happens. He asks if I have considered walking around in bubble wrap. Yes I have many many time considered this.

Call Me Grace

I do not come from the most graceful of families. In fact we are all klutzes and its amazing that we haven't died out due to our accident prone nature. One time my mom step down off a bus and twisted her ankle so bad that it was the sizes of 2 softballs. My brother once hit a parked car while riding his bike. My sister crashed through a glass door and my dad once fell and cut his head on a chain saw. So as you can see we are very accident prone.

And I always have a new bruise from walking into walls, furniture or tripping over my own feet. But the last few days have been extreme even for me. Two days ago I was moving a bookcase when not 1 but 2 shelves fell out of the book case and hit my foot. Okay so they both didn't hit my foot, one landed on my foot and the other landed on the shelf that landed on my foot. In my defense I had forgotten that this book case didn't not have shelves that attached but rather were sitting on brackets. My foot immediately started to turn purple and swell. For the last 2 days it has become deeper shades of purple and it is now painful to walk.

And then last night....I fell down my stairs. I only fell down 2 steps and was not injured I just laid on the floor laughing while my dog, Tashi, ran upstairs to get my mom. She's such a good dog.


Then while moving some boxes upstairs, I bumped into something. I am not sure if it was a shelf, drawer, box or rubber tote (mostly likely a shelf) but a few minutes later I looked down and not only was my leg scratched and bleeding but it was also turning a nice shade of purple. So I slapped a couple of band aids. Luckily I always pack the 1st aid kit last.


 Did this stop me....I bet you already know the answer is NO. I didn't not slow down for a minute. While moving a piece of furniture it started to tip and instead of letting it fall I decided in a moment of brilliance to stop it with my body. YES I SAID MY BODY!!!!! This has caused major bruising on my arm and my thigh.

At this point you would think I would call it a day. Sit back and watch TV, eat some dinner, drink a bottle of wine and relax. But apparently I was not done. Oh No!!! I decided that my already accident prone day was not complete without adding a trip to the ER. 

Tigger who is not a whiny cat was having some stress from the move and was meowing and hiding in a closet. As I bend down to comfort her I whacked my head on a shelf (are you detecting a theme). Immediately my head starting bleeding. I am all by myself with a head wound. I walked quickly and a bit dazed to the bathroom to see how bad I was cut.

At this point I started crying knowing I need to go to the hospital but knowing I couldn't drive. So I did what any girl would do I called my MOMMY to come and get me. Who after loading me in the truck started laughing at me...WTF!!!!! I'm bleeding and she is laughing. Ever time she looked at me she would laugh, I'm pretty sure she pointed at me and laughed at some point.

I was holding a bloody wash rag to my forehead on my way to the Emergency Room and my mother is laughing at me. Soon after arriving at the ER I started to go into shock(Im a bit dramatic) because I started to get sick and the nurse ended up putting me on oxygen.

I ended up not getting stitches (although I was pretty sure my mom was going to start arguing with the Dr. about that). The wound was already closing so it was decided to put some Dermbond and steri strips on my forehead and a tetanus shot in my arm.

It has been suggested that I move into a bubble, I think a better idea is wrapping me in bubble wrap. I have bruises from my forehead down to the top of my foot. An intervention may be necessary.