Jeremy and Jessica came to visit on Valentine’s Day weekend. We did a band photo. A fun one.
After a breakfast in the Italian Market, I took them around town by bike to visit all the sites. Independence Hall, Liberty Bell, Penn’s Landing, Reading Terminal Market, Love Park, the Art Museum, and South St.
Like every other fool tourist, we ran up the steps of the Art Museum. Although Jessica never saw Rocky, she got swept up in the spirit.
As a sign of solidarity, we all wore our Cambodian scarves. ALWAYS wear a Cambodian scarf. NEVER forget its many functions. Headwrap, scarf, solidarity.
We made chili and some jiffy corn bread, and watched a bad Seagal vampire movie.
Then they left.
I’ve been working on destroying the inside of my sister’s new house. Her boyfriend, Peter, and I have been taking the kitchen tile up with chisel and hammer. It’s been good that we’ve been wearing goggles and work gloves because chips have been flying up and hitting me in the goggles and face.
Today I was chipping away and a piece broke off in a triangular shape. The sharp tip flew back gashing me across the left wrist. Blood spurted out immediately and I applied pressure with my dusty work glove. Peter responded to my “Oh shit,” and ran to find some paper towel. I elevated my legs and Peter applied pressure to my wrist with the towel as Eleanor went to get the car.
I stayed calm since the bleeding stopped, but it was a nasty wound; I could see muscle tissue. I started thinking about how much it would cost me to go the the ER. I was considering walk-in clinics. But we only knew where the ER was, so we went there.
My wrist was cleaned and bandaged in triage, but I started blacking out and getting pale face. After a few minutes, I was fine again. I registered and found out I had a $100 co-pay. Good thing I had health insurance.
After two hours in the waiting room, I got called in. The nurses irrigated my wound with sterile water, numbed my wrist, and then sewed me up with eight stitches. I looked at my cut and realized how close I was to cutting my artery. I mentioned this to the nurse and she said it’s better not to think about it. I started feeling light-headed.
I’ve got to go back in a week and get the stitches taken out. What’s good is that it’s a follow-up and I won’t have to pay anything more.
Update: I didn’t want to wait in the ER for 2 or 3 hours, so I took the stitches out myself six days after the cut. Toenail clippers, tweezers, and alcohol. The cut still looked pretty raw and ready to gape open if I gave my skin a yank, but it’s scabbed up well since.
I just made it into Bangkok. Wow it’s amazing here on the other side of the world. The massages really take you away, give you that needed lift after a long flight. A little release never hurt nobody.
2 years ago today a young lad stepped into Home Depot headquarters. His heart pumping, his hands sweaty, a big smile on his face. He was ready for the future, ready for big things.
He rises up today not just an analyst, but a senior analyst. Sr. Analyst Eoin Grosch. Driving excellence, delivering great customer service, unwilling to give it less than 110%.
Today, on Jan 3 may we remember the young lad, the dreamer and celebrate the icon, Sr. Analyst Eoin Grosch who was berthed into the Home Depot family 2 years ago this very day.
Put your aprons on.