Let's start all the way back on last Saturday evening when I headed down the street to run a DnD game at the convention... which was fine, except that they weren't the players I would have chosen given any other choice. But, like I said, it was fine. And I hung around until nearly midnight when they finally threw us out of the place before wandering home.
The problems started on Sunday.
Because I was running another DnD game at the same time Sunday night, I moved some of the stuff I normally do on a Sunday forward, which meant that I started making soup at about 2pm. All good so far, right up until the point where I was cutting potato and my very new and very sharp knife made contact in a fairly significant way with the end of my left index finger. So significant in fact that it separated the flesh at the top of my finger from the rest of my finger.
Yeah, I sliced the top of my finger off.
Fortunately not the nail though, which is good. But I didn't even realise what I'd done originally, it just seemed quite bloody, and it really wasn't until I discovered the end of my finger (or, to use the new word I discovered later, the 'pulp') sitting quietly under the blade of my knife that I knew what I'd done.
I tried to get it to stop bleeding on it's own, but it wasn't having any of that, and around 3:30 Ma headed down this way to take me to the emergency room. At no point was a freaked out about any of it to be honest, it was more of a combination midway between fascinated and irritated that my plan for the rest of the evening was null and void. Much like the end of my finger.
Fortunately the emergency room was fairly empty and after the nurse wrapped up my finger much more successfully than I'd done, it wasn't too long before I got ushered into a cubicle.
It was also slightly weird because it was the brand new hospital at the other end of North Terrace, so everything just felt nicer, or at least less shabby around the edges.
Short version is that I got a tetanus shot which genuinely hurt more than cutting off the end of my finger did, the nurse practitioner man cleaned up my finger a little and slapped a couple of fancy dressings around it, wrapped some tape on top, told me to go and see my GP in a week's time and called it a day.
There was a short period of time where I was convinced it was just going to keep bleeding, but I think it just didn't enjoy being jiggled around during the car ride home.
So now I have a finger that doesn't bend in the middle due to tape, a finger I can't type with due to the end being missing and several weeks of this shit to put up with. At least they tell me that the end of my finger will grow back.
Yeah... that's pretty much what I've been dealing with all week.
It's not hugely surprising how much more difficult just about everything becomes when you can't use or really bend your index finger. But I've managed.
After I got back from the hospital and Ma and I had pizza, I finished the soup. I had to, I mean I'd already chopped all the leeks and about half of the potatoes, so it seemed silly to not finish it. And it wasn't bad.
DnD wasn't bad this week... obviously I never made it to the game I was supposed to run on Sunday... Monday's game was about average (although, really I absolutely need to get better at running to time, I always assume we have enough time and then end up having to slightly rush the ending, which is less than ideal)... Wednesday's game was a bit of a hot mess, half due to the particular collection of players and half due to the adventure being a bit crap... and Thursday we used technology to beam one of our players in when he was sick and playing from home. It also wasn't a bad game, most of it ended up consisting of roleplay, but with that group that's never a bad thing (well, almost never).
On an unrelated note, remember The Boy... and remember how I said "because at a certain point he's going to go off and get involved with a woman, because that's definitely a thing that's going to happen"... well, it happened. And he's super excited about it and I have the occasional moment of wanting to claw my own eyes out.
I also don't want to be snippy or dismissive about it to him, and because it seems we can have any conversation, I had the "hey, all I want is for you to be happy, but if occasionally I'm a salty asshat, you already know why, just ignore me" conversation.
The problem I'm actually having though is a) probably all in my own head, b) largely temporal and c) entirely expected, something that has happened more than once and yet still irritating.
I feel like The Boy is distancing himself from me, or at the very least now that he has a person of the female persuasion to focus his attention on, I'm no longer useful as someone upon which to spend his time. I mean I get it, out of the possible options, of course the spare time he has he's going to focus that way, but it's also kind of a dick move when you've been using me as emotional support to suddenly just whip that particular rug out of the room.
And it's weird because just about every Tuesday night without fail he would message me just because he had time on his hands and clearly I was the place he'd chosen to spend that time. Except for this Tuesday. But I don't know if he's pissed off at me, or if he's just reallocated his time allowance or what, but it kinda stung. And of course it's so stupid, because those messages were usually a minor irritation... okay, you've messaged me around the same time every Tuesday, and most of those times I've told you that I'm doing the exact same thing, and yet you still seem to not remember?
I will clearly need to have a conversation with him about it this week... I did ask at the end of a different conversation we had this week, but he hasn't replied to the question, which isn't a unique thing, but right after I sent it he did accidentally call me and then immediately cancel it, so I have no idea what the fuck is going on.
I'm guessing option A, all in my head, is in effect (and yes, very probably, since he just texted me about something completely unrelated). But we'll be having that conversation. And if necessary I will remind him that he started all this shit with his drunken semi-confession.
Anyway...
Friday was supposed to be Chiro Day... but it also got turned into GP Day, and the chiro appointment got moved earlier in the day so I could do both of them back to back.
The doctor's appointment was fine... as I think I've said before, I'm quite fond of my GP, he's basically a sweet old duffer. And the process of getting the dressing on my finger changed was relatively painless, and gave me a chance to see the end of my finger or lack of same. And like the initial hospital visit, I was way more fascinated than I was grossed out by it.
And it only took around 20-25 minutes all up, so not awful. Which is good, because for a couple of weeks at least I'll be doing that once a week. Urgh.
The chiro appointment was all good, and like every conversation I've had with people over the last week, I had plenty of "I cut off the end of my finger" material to work with.
Today was... today.
We did the supermarket thing... I'm probably making regular chicken soup this week because fuck everything, I still have this dumb cold/flu thing.
Then we went into the city for some general wandering around. I picked up some cardstock for DnD related printing needs, Ma bought a present for someone, we stopped off at this place that makes Japanese baked cheese tarts, which I quite enjoyed... well, the filling anyway, less so the pastry.
And that was really about it.
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