by Doris | June 23, 2008
First of all, I want to apologize to my little friends, Sierra (age 4), Elise (age 3) and Cici (sorry if I spelled your name wrong) (age 8) whom I promised a little spin in Sprinty the Van last night. I didn't know that packing up was going to go so late, so we ended up not having the time and I know y'all were really disappointed. But I hope that didn't take away from all the fun we had after the show, talking and hanging out in the green room and chasing balloons!
And thank you, Covington, for coming out in droves and giving us the warmest Louisiana welcome. Girlyman has always thrived by word of mouth introductions, and Martha and Jeff, you really put your hearts into spreading the word. It was truly a memorable night!
by Doris | June 8, 2008
So the other night around midnight, I dropped a frying pan on my big toe. It was like an All-Clad frying pan (read: heavy like a cast iron skillet) and hurt like a pain from the depths of Hell. Ever stub your toe or drop anything else on your foot? Imagine that happening 50 times in a row and you might come CLOSE to what I went through. Fortunately, I was wearing purple nail polish, so I couldn't really see what the true damage was. But I knew I was a goner when, after 10 minutes had elapsed, I was still in shock; freezing cold, hyperventilating, sweating all at once. Come on D, you can get through this, I said to myself, as I placed a bag of frozen gorgonzola and walnut tortellini from Trader Joe's on my foot (my refrigerator didn't come with ice cube trays for some reason) to try and numb the pain. I laid back on my bed, my foot elevated on a half a dozen pillows, but every throb of blood in my toe was like a hammer to my head. I even tried to distract myself by reading my copy of the teenage trash novel called Heaven, by V.C. Andrews, (you know, the one about poor girl in West Virginia whose father sells her and her brothers and sisters to rich people and she ends up sleeping with her adoptive father?) which inexplicably made its way to my apartment in Brooklyn from my childhood home in NJ into a box that made its way here, to Atlanta, GA! Even the dramatic shlock wasn't sufficient enough to keep my mind off the pain, which was increasing by the minute. By the time I realized I wasn't going to bed any time soon, it was 5:30am.
I called up Nate, who answered in a panicked, What's-Going-On!? kind of voice and said calmly, "I need you to go on the internet and figure out how to burn a hole through my nail with a paperclip to relieve the pressure from the blood in my toe. I'm coming over soon." Now, what is she talking about, you might ask, but it is indeed a tried and true method that was once performed on my middle finger when I had a similar pain after I slammed it in Ty's mom's car in high school. "Okay. Got it," he said, soberly. I removed the nail polish from my toe and saw it was a lot worse than I expected--purplish black under the entire nail, which meant that it was a major nail injury. My stomach turned. But I managed to drive over to his place and stumble in, at which point, Nate informed me I had a subungual hematoma (um, thanks, Nate) and led me to the kitchen. With a pair of pliers, he held a straightened out paper clip over the flame of the stove until it got red hot. Then, he melted the tip straight through my nail at its base (oy, I can't hardly write about it without my toes curling!) until blood came, well, spurting out like a river. Oh okay, it wasn't that dramatic, but let's just say that a goodly amount was collected. The relief was instantaneous. All the color came back to my face and suddenly I could breathe normally again. I was amazed at how calm and professional Nate was, as if he had been providing Subungual Hematoma Relief for victims since the dawn of time. It's three days later and I can walk without limping, which is kind of a miracle.
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by Toller, January 25, 2007
Aw Nate, i hope you are ok!