Tuesday, August 29, 2017

3 times my face scared me

So far in my life, there have been three times my own face has scared me. I will not post pictures, as 1. I don't have any and 2. I never want to see it again.

1. When I was working at Kaplan, we had an evening event where we were kind of showcasing the school. I was in the Criminal Justice room, where we had a video machine thing - it showed crime scenes, and there was a gun (very realistic - weight and size) and the student acted as a cop with the gun. Kind of like Duck Hunt, but with a more realistic gun and people rather than ducks. There was a lull in the action, so I took the gun to play but my finger got stuck in it. It instantly started bleeding, so I ran to the bathroom, and then I got that pass out feeling. I quickly went into a stall to lay down until the feeling passed. (Yes, I know how gross it is to lay in a public bathroom. When I am that close to passing out, I do not care.) I realized I had been in there forever and needed to pull myself together, so I crawled out of the stall and to the sink to wet a paper towel. I pulled myself up and looked in the mirror and HOLY HELL. My face was as white as a ghost and I seriously thought for a minute that I had actually died.

2. After I had my neck tumor removed, (I wrote about it here) I was in the hospital for five days. So five days with no shower, no hair brushing....thinking back, I don't even think I brushed my teeth (I can't remember if I could put a toothbrush in my mouth). I was DISGUSTING. And the worst thing of all - my neck was leaking so I had a tube coming out of it, collecting the...stuff? Liquid? Blood? Puss? It collected into this little suction thing that the nurses kept tucking into my gown pocket so I wouldn't have to look at it. I turned away when they came in to empty it. I avoided mirrors for a few days, but then I finally peeked - and HOLY HELL. My hair was matted to my head. I don't even want to go into the tube. And my scar was DISGUSTING.

3. A few weeks ago I was kickboxing at the gym. I had taken a few days off, and I was loving being back on the mat. I was pounding on the bag - punching as hard as I possibly could. I had been fighting a cold (one of the reasons I hadn't worked out in a few days), and my nose started running. Being disgusting and too stubborn to leave the mat, I brushed my sleeve against my nose to wipe it away. It kept running, so I kept wiping. Finally, I went into the bathroom to blow my nose. I looked in the mirror and HOLY HELL. My face was covered in blood! I was facing out on the mat, so none of my fellow kickboxers could have seen my face. I seriously looked like a MMA fighter. I started wetting paper towels to wipe the blood off, and then I got that familiar feeling that I was going to pass out. I wetted a bunch of paper towels and headed into one of the stalls, where, again, I laid down. This is where I begin to evaluate the situation. I was laying on the floor in a bathroom stall, my feet up on the toilet. I had a pile of bloody paper towels next to me. Seriously?! Luckily I got myself together and hightailed it out of the gym.

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