Blood, the Duggars, and my Career Aspirations

On my way to work each day, I pass advertisements plastered on the walls of my El station urging the young and career-transitional to go into Nursing. Each time, I briefly think that perhaps my road-not-taken was the one that led to Medical School.

And then I remember the time I sliced my thumb open while trying to make a bagel sandwich and fainted dead on the kitchen floor.

The stuff that lives inside  us – blood, bones, guts – are absolutely, completely, totally not my thing. 

It seems, however, that if I relay that to people, they counter with the story of the worst injury they ever had/witnessed/read about as though to test my mettle; as though my overripe gag-reflex were some cheap party trick. One particular such story involving exiting a canoe, a slippery rock, and a horrendous injury to ones ladybits shall live with me forever.

Last night I was sitting on the couch eating dinner (Cheerios), watching TLC’s 19 Kids and Counting. Yes, I watch 19 Kids and Counting. I love the Duggars. What of it? In this particular episode, Johannah (child #16) falls off her bike and cuts her face pretty badly. Because of the location of the injury, she’s taken in to get stitches.

Oh, kill me. Kill me dead.

Mind you, this is the Duggars, not Tales from the ER or some other such horror, so while the time at the doctor’s office is shown, it is brief and only minimally gory.

Immediately, Cheerios are discarded and I’m sitting with my head between my knees. Don’t start with “you didn’t have to watch it” because the image was already seared into my brain. Overcome with the feeling that I’m was either going to faint or be ill, I head to the bathroom where I spend the next several minutes curled on the floor with my forehead pressed to the tiles.

Pathetic? Perhaps. 

That bagel story above? After my roommate found me and roused me to come watch Desperate Housewives, I made it halfway down the hallway before looking at my thumb and fainting again. Blood is not my game. If an injury requires an antidote stronger than a hug, I’m out.

Please God I have children with magical, intsa-mending skin.


About Helena

Helena lives in Chicago with her boyfriend and two cats. Her boyfriend thinks she's awesome. Her cats agree.

Posted on May 13, 2011, in Miscellany and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. bahahhaa. that was hilarious.

    ok. so in 8th grade, i was slicing a head of lettuce in home Ec. and wouldn’t u know that the knife slipped and i cut my hand entirely between my thumb and forefinger. i could literally see the ligaments inside my hand.


    i can’t even give blood, i fall over dead thinking about it.

    and the duggers? eh. but i’m all about that 9 by design. that’s my jam.

    • Oh, barf. I would have died. I’m not allowed to give blood anymore. They have a “three faints and you’re out” policy, apparently, and I’ve been black-listed.

  2. Cheerios for dinner…awesome! 😉

  1. Pingback: (F)Risky Business « Bye Bye, Bitters

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