I Have Nothing to Write About

So, I have nothing to write about. Sometimes I have so many ideas that I can't decide which I should use, but then there are these times when nothing sounds interesting, everything seems lame, and I feel like a great big loser.

I could tell you about the time that I met Richard Simmons. He was visiting Wheeling about nine-ish years ago and held a workout in the Wes Banco arena, but that is pretty much the entire story. Well, that and the fact that my sister and I almost got into a fight with one of the women running the thing because we were waiting in line to get an autograph and we also wanted to get a picture with him too. How dare we request so much of Richard? When it was our turn to see him, we tried to explain that we were only allowed to get the picture and he said with a big smile on his face, "Oh, give me the damn thing," and he signed the crap out of it. He was really nice and also took several pictures with us. In your face mean event lady!

I could tell you about the New Years Eve that I got a nose bleed and I couldn't get it stopped and it bled off and on until the next morning when it was so bad that we decided that I had to go to the emergency room. I don't even think that they made me register. The nurse took one look at me and sent me back to an exam room. The doctor that saw me shoved so much gauze up there that I felt like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall. You would think that such a massive amount of gauze would do the trick, but we no sooner left the ER and headed to get a prescription filled when I started bleeding profusely AGAIN and went back to the ER. This time they used this cardboard thing that after it was rammed up inside my nose, they used a needle to fill it with water to make it expand. I believe all of this happened on a Monday and I had to leave that thing in there until Friday...FRIDAY...as in FOUR DAYS LATER!!!

I was never so happy to go to the hospital as I was that Friday to get the Rino Rocket, yeah, that's what it was called, out of my nose, that is until I saw the doctor come in with a bunch of paper towels and a pair of forceps. When you have experienced the kind of nosebleed that I had and you have suffered for days with this massive plug inside your nose, that last thing that you want to see is a huge wad of paper towels because that probably ain't good.

You could tell that this guy was old school and that he probably interned on the fields of Gettysburg because he was completely stone-faced, all business, and he was coming at me with no mercy. It took, oh, I don't know, 2.2 seconds for him to rip, RIP that thing from my nose and then he was gone. The nurse that came in to discharge me looked at me and said, "Oh, I think you may have developed an infection," because the whole right side of my face was swollen. Maybe if Dr. Kevorkian had taken half of the amount of time it took him to rip that thing from my face to really look at me, he would have noticed that things weren't exactly symmetrical and would have done something about it himself, but I am sure he had many more patients to torture.

The absolute best part of this story is when yet another nurse came back to give me an IV before they sent me off to get a cat scan of my enormous face and she brings a gown with her. She says, "Oh, hehe, you might want to put this on because sometimes this gets a little messy."

?????????????????????mouth hanging open??????????????????????????????

A little messy? Good God woman you are giving me an IV, not hacking my arm off. What do you mean a little messy? Are we talking like the guy on the bicycle that gets hit by Clark in European Vacation when the blood squirts out from his palm when he is giving them directions or more like Leatherface in Texas Chainsaw Massacre? I mean, I just really want to know what I am getting into here before I just hand over my arm. Clearly she was a student of Dr. No Personality Kevorkian.

She never did get the IV in place and had to call for backup, I didn't have an infection, and praise be to God I haven't had a nose bleed since. (Knock on wood)

Maybe I should tell you about how I met my husband, Mike, and how after one of our first dates I opened his truck door right into the concrete wall of my parents house? Or maybe the time that I fell asleep on my way home from work and ran into a guardrail? FYI, I wasn't hurt, but my car wasn't so lucky. How about the time that I fell asleep in science class back in high school and actually gave myself whiplash? I was in physical therapy for more than a year over that one.

I don't know. Like I said, I really don't have anything to write about. Maybe I will have something for tomorrow, but don't count on it.