My Leg- The Firemans Pole

WARNING- FOR THOSE FOLKS WITH A DISLIKE OF BLOOD AND GORE, AND THOSE OF A WEAK DISPOSITION LOOK AWAY NOW!

Monday started out as every other Monday does. I was awoken by the beautiful sounds of Newton Faulkner and his pretty little song called Gone in the Morning. I got up, feeling the dread really looking forward to another working week. I jumped in the shower, not literally, that would be a silly idea, but maybe a broken bone would prevent me from . . . .  no bad idea, I need to work, and it really is quite a nice little job.

Quick shower, hair dried upside down for maximum flickety effect, and make up applied with little effort. Now, as its only me prancing around in my room in the mornings, I either spend my time in my dressing gown, or just my underwear. Unfortunately, the latter option was my choice yesterday, leaving my legs fully exposed!

I was cleaning my ears out with the trusty old cotton ear buds, when Marcy the kitten decided she wanted to play with one ( an unused one- fresh from the packet dont worry!). So after she had pestered me for long enough, I threw one onto my bed for her to play with. She launched herself off the suitcase in an attempt to reach the bed. Unfortunately her little paws didnt give her enough grip. As she hurtled towards the ground and saw her little 3 month life flash before her pretty little eyes, she saw a lifeline- MY LEG!

So she did as any hunky fireman would do and grabbed on and slid down with ease. My leg however came off a lot worse. At first I heard the noise of claw on skin, then the pain, then I looked down, and luckily there wasn't anything to be seen. Phew, I thought, I got away with that one . . . . Not on your nelly, I took another look and the thing was bleeding- a lot!

HELLO!

So, I ran upstairs to show my sister and our housemate. My sister nearly vommed. Not at the sight of blood, but at the pattern it had displayed itself in on my skin. She has a phobia of patterns, called Tripophobia. She was kind enough to let me use her Boots cucumber wipes, mainly because she wanted me to get rid of the pattern, but also so I could clean up the mess before it got over everything else.

At lunchtime it still didnt look very pretty, it had bled under the skin. So now it looks like my leg has been run through an industrial sized sewing machine, or has been attacked by a stammering Morse Coder wielding a pencil compass!

All in all, I'm not going to be getting my legs out in public this week, and maybe not even next week. I'm not so self conscious about the wound, but more of the fact that I'm going to end up with hairy legs! I wont be shaving my leg again until it has healed- I'm not risking taking off more skin!