Mozzie’s Post-Surgery Journal: Day 11

Mozzie’s Journal:

Cone status: zen

Boo Bear/Monkey status: MINE

Squirrel Status: on high alert

Kita status: partners in crime

0630: Mom comes down the stairs to walk us but instead of coming down on two paws like she normally does, she decides to come down on all fours, face first, like the rest of us. She then began to discuss defecation, but I didn’t see or smell any feces in the area. Then, she retreated upstairs while Dad left, presumably to pet other canines, and Kita and I were forced to wait an entire lifetime and a half before we could get our walk. Obviously we are victims of animal cruelty and the humans should be punished; perhaps they are not allowed to eat their own food and must give it to the canines for a week, eh?

For the rest of the day, Mom was really teary for no reason and kept putting cold squares on her paw. And talking about feces. I think she may have a horrible fascination with the stuff because she keeps talking about it even when it’s not there.

Sharon’s Journal:

Remember when I said that I would end up with stitches before Mozzie was out of his cone? I was wrong. I’d end up with a broken bone. A doubly broken bone.

So, to keep Mozzie off the stairs, we put a single package of canned dog food on the steps. This was enough to keep our nervous boy from attempting the stairs. But then, when Kita arrived, she dashed up and down the stairs a bunch, making Mozzie cry. So we added another package of canned dog food and then put a long amazon box across it. Because all of these things were already in the living room by the stairs when we needed a barricade. Also because we are dumb.

Yesterday morning (day 11) I decided to climb over the barricade, knowing it was about the same height as my leg, to “save time” instead of moving it to the side so I could step around it. The following happened in slow motion:

My foot caught on the edge of the box and I lost my balance, tumbling head-first towards our hard, tile floor. Because the stairs are currently unfinished, I managed to get wood burn on both my palms and wrists as they caught the edges of the stairs and I fell. My knees banged both the stairs and the tile floor, leaving impressive bruises. I caught myself, if you can call it that, by the forehead and the palms/wrists.

My left wrist/thumb in particular felt weird but I figured I would give it at least fifteen minutes to calm down before I freaked out. Then I realized my nose was bleeding and I had cut up my wrists and was bleeding from there as well. So I cleaned up, I iced my left thumb, and I took the dogs to the front yard to take in the beauty of nature while I googled “numbness in thumb tip” and “when I move my fingers my wrist hurts.”

So when James came home we went to urgent care. There, we confirmed I wasn’t pregnant (despite my explanation that I actively try to make my womb as inhospitable as possible) so that I could have xrays done. Then, because I had open skin abrasions and because the last time I had one was because of a college theater accident that was definitely more than 10 years ago, I got a tetanus shot. Instead of giving me the shot in my left arm where I already had a ton of pain, they did it in my right arm because reasons? Finally, I went for xrays.

It was confirmed that I have two hairline fractures in my left thumb and now I need to see an orthopedist and do all of that fun stuff.

I’m useless – my left hand is out of commission and the muscles in my right arm are crazy sore from the shot. The dogs are loving that I’m being lazy with them and they’re loving the out door time but I have things I’d like to do…

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Super swollen hand and fingers. Fun.

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