Sunday, September 14, 2008

Always Check Your Hands

I woke up to a tickly sensation below my nose this morning.

In my half-conscious state I batted and rubbed my face, not even bothering to open my eyes to see what it was. I had a few thoughts going through my head, like lint. Dog hair. My husband messing with me.

My bapping and rubbing worked, and I slinked back toward Dream Land.

But the pesky tickling started in again a moment later. And again, I rubbed and swiped.

Moments later;


That did it!

My eyes flew open, and I vigorously rubbed my upper lip again. Take that, whatever you are. Ugh!

And that's when I looked down at my hand. And lo and behold, 'twas not a bug or a tuft of lint, or even a wisp of dog hair causing my distress. Oh no.

It was blood. My own repulsive nose blood.


As those who know me well can testify, I am horrendously queasy and light-headed at the sight of blood. In fact, yesterday I'd sliced open my ankle shaving and thought for sure I'd hit my head on the side of the bathtub. Had it not been for my death-grip on the towel bar, I'm sure I would've.

So, to see it all over my hand--which meant it was now all over my face--was enough to start my day off with a bang. :-{

I guess all the nose-blowing I did overnight ruptured a few vessels in my beak. Yuck.

So at 6:30 this morning, I was up washing my face and hands. And showering. And gagging.

I hate colds.

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