Crying Wee! Wee! Wee! All the Way Home

So I try to write these blog posts because I think I have something quasi-important to say. But only quasi... I'm not that special. But every once in a while I write something because I know I was in the wrong; doing something stupid involving treatment or just about me screwing up my life in general. So this is one of those, a semi-cautionary tale, because sometimes the smallest parts of out body can be a big problem (That's what she said...).

Okay, so kind of unrelated, I got this idea from a commercial. One of my favorite commercials of all time. I'm posting it below...

So sometimes I enjoy drinking a bottle of wine. It's a good time. I enjoy trying new wines I don't know and when it comes to something bubbly or effervescent, much like my personality, I go a little overboard, again, much like my personality. So when I've been drinking I get a little rowdy and... well... enough about that. Moral of story, the other night I was drinking a little and stubbed my pinky toe, no harm no foul. And I went to bed.

Next morning, I woke up and my toe was all red, discolored, and I had a blood blister under my toe nail. "It's just my pinky-toe," I thought. No harm, no foul. And off to work I trudged.

Bad idea. By the end of my shift I could barely walk, and after popping 6-8 ibuprofen at a time, my stomach was doing somersaults. It's silly. As a mild-mod Hemophiliac I don't jump the gun to infuse right away, but I usually am OVERLY cautious about RICE. My toe is still a little swollen and hurts like hell, but I think any bleeding has stopped, even though the entire ball of my foot felt like I was walking on glass and not my fabulous metallic P.F. Flyers.

You'd think that by the time I've turned 27 I would understand how to take care of my body, it's just that sometimes, I still don't want to admit to myself that something is wrong. That I'm bleeding. That I'm not normal. It's just easier to pretend everything is fine, even though I am in excruciating pain.

So don't be stupid. Even if you've had a couple glasses of wine or are with someone you have neglected to inform of your condition, just be honest with your own needs and do what's best. And for all my non-bleeder friends out there, the same goes for you. I'm not saying make a mountain out a molehill, which my anxiety disorder causes me to do one too many times, but don't just sweep the little stuff under the rug. Sometimes you need to act upon it. Because if not, it could turn into a disaster, and the the Beyonce Beautiful kind... Just a plain old disaster.

Take it from one who knows... but that's a WHOLE 'nother post. So don't let the little piggy cry all the way home, even if he loves the pinwheel...

Until we meet again...