Saturday, February 7, 2015

A Diary of a Burn

On December 21st, 2014, I had my first real burn injury. Not the little spatters that everyone gets while cooking, but a full-on freshly microwaved country gravy covering two of my fingers on my left hand. Just in case you aren't familiar with country gravy, it is basically fried grease, flour, and milk. It is very think and clings very efficiently. I would qualify this as my first truly serious injury.

I've been very lucky overall in my life when it comes to injuries. I have come through my years relatively unscathed. First grade seems to have been the worst year for me when it comes to injuries: I got a concussion when running under a friend on the swing and getting kicked in the back of the head, I got stabbed in the ear by a friend, and flew over the head of my pony and landed on my left arm with another kid landing on my back. The fall destroyed on the cushion in my shoulder joint, though I wouldn't know that for about 20 years (pre-MRI). I have scars on my shins from learning to ride horses in junior high. I pulled a thigh muscle in track during high school and ran on it for 6 weeks. I suppose that the scars of childbirth could be counted as injuries as well. My most recent injury prior to this burn was right before Christmas 2013, when I slipped and hit my head on the floor causing my glasses to cut the corner of my eye. So that is two Christmases in a row that have have been hurt. If it happens again next year, it'll be the beginnings of a Christmas tradition. This is not a tradition I want to start.

I do not recommend burning yourself, especially with anything sticky and clinging. This makes the burn so much worse as the substance doesn't just pass over the skin briefly. I am not one to run to the doctor or emergency room easily, I'd rather just take care of it at home. If I had gone by the look of my skin immediately after the incident, I would not have gone to the ER. It took hours for the blisters to start to truly form. However, the pain was beyond anything I had ever felt in my life. I can say without exaggeration that I wanted to cut my hand off to end the pain for a good 30 minutes. I put my hand under cool water just as one should, until that too began to hurt terribly. So I put in under water on and off periodically. Do not put ice on a burn as they told us to do when we were kids. It can exacerbate any potential nerve damage. My daughter was very helpful and concerned during all of this, she witnessed the whole thing. She even fetched my husband when I realized that I'd need to go to hospital.

I am including pictures to show the progress of my injury. If you are squeamish, I suggest not looking any further.



These first two pictures were taken very shortly after the burn happened. You can't even see the redness in the photos.  The burn seems quite innocuous. However these pictures are deceiving, the pain was rampant. The pain ebbed and flowed, at times I considered not going to the ER, but I knew better as I had seen a burn on a hand before. I knew that despite the appearance, the fact that the gravy had clung meant that it was likely that it was a second degree burn. I am so glad that I knew enough to take off my wedding ring at the very beginning, it would have had to been cut off my finger if I had waited to remove it. Taking off the ring was something that required some teeth gritting. Despite the lack of redness and blisters in the pictures, the second one shows that my digits had already begun to swell a bit.




I am very glad that I decided to go to the ER and get treated, though I had to wait for several hours to be seen as there were much worse injuries and illnesses involving vomiting in the ER with me. I actually ended up carpooling to the ER with my father- and mother-in-law because she was in the beginning stages of a seizure. It was a very strange day. The real blisters didn't begin to show up until about an hour and a half after I got the burn. It was while I was waiting in the ER. The blister started out so tiny and ordinary. I was able to wait patiently, and even read for a little while, before the pain waves became more intense again. Then I had to pace in the waiting room to help cope with the pain. I even ran cool water over my hand periodically because the skin stung from what felt like an intense sunburn dryness.  I even had to get a nurse to help me go to the bathroom because I couldn't get my jeans button undone one handed.



My reward for my patience at the ER was some pain medication, some excellent burn cream, and some free gauze. Though I really needed about 10 boxes of gauze instead of the two they gave me. On the plus side, I got a wonderful lobster claw hand for the holidays.The fingers had to be individually wrapped within the larger bandage to prevent them from sticking together. If you've ever hurt your fingers, you'll be familiar with this practice. This detail became very important as my body tried to heal itself. It was pretty funny to watch me try to write at work the first couple of days. Luckily, much of what I do involves typing. Though I think, even that was a bit funny and awkward looking. It certainly was uncomfortable, and even painful, towards the end of the day.



Over the next couple of days, I was amazed and kind of grossed out over the blisters that developed. I think the best description of my feelings would be "fascinated horror". The one on my ring finger became particularly large, the size of a whole other finger. I continually marveled at what my body was doing to try to heal itself and terrified that the skin at the edges of the blister would simply rip apart from the amount of stretching that it was doing. It certainly felt like it was on the edge of tearing apart. I also worried about the skin over the blister spontaneously bursting because the skin couldn't stretch anymore. It took two days for the blisters to reach their largest size. I couldn't help but stare at them when changing my bandages.


 
At times, it was tempting to pop the blisters. This was something I knew I shouldn't do, as they are there to protect the new skin, so I was very protective of my blisters and tried to keep them intact as long as I could I was defeated by a need to consumer summer sausage. Cutting myself a few slices, the pressure of pushing on the knife caused the largest blister to pop. It was 6 days after the burn was received. In some ways this was much grosser than the blister itself. I left the skin so that it could continue to protect the new skin underneath. Plus, any manipulation of that skin caused a bit of pain. The blister on my middle finger had started to reduce on its own at this point, which was good, my fingers had been forcibly separated into a Vulcan greeting for a week (though no one could see it through the bandage) and the muscles were fatigued. It was a relief to not have to hold my fingers at such an awkward angle anymore and there were a surprising feeling of freedom, now that I could wrap my fingers individually and have a range of motion that more closely resembled normal.


I think the next stage of my recovery was my favorite. As the skin from the blisters dried out about 8 days after the original injury, my hand started to look like something out of a zombie movie. Though the hard, dry skin was a bit uncomfortable and would sometimes poke the tender new skin underneath it. I had to make sure I kept my fingers moving to help the new skin stay elastic. I wanted to use moisturizer on my dry skin but couldn't. So instead, I kept applying the burn cream like a good patient.





It was very difficult not to peel the skin off once the scabs started flaking off. It's like that compulsion to remove torn labels, almost irresistible. I admit that the angry redness and the tenderness of the newly exposed flesh was helpful in resisting this temptation, but only at first. Also, knowing that doing so would likely increase any scaring. I'm not overly vain, but I've always thought I had pretty good skin, and I didn't want to screw that up.



My slavish obedience to the doctor's directions and my resistance to the temptation to pop the blisters or peel the scabs prematurely has apparently paid off. The burn scar is barely noticeable on my skin. There is some tightness to the burn area and it seems to dry out more quickly than the skin around it. My ring finger seems slightly bigger than previously, but I was able to put my wedding ring back on. (Though it's uncomfortable to try to take it off.) The area is still slightly red and is occasionally tender to the touch. Extreme cold seems to bother it more than heat.

Getting such a burn is not an experience I want to repeat, but I think I healed up rather well. I hope that you never get such an injury, or any injury for that matter.

I hope you have a wonderful 2015!










Saturday, December 6, 2014

2014 Christmas Stockings

I made three Christmas stocking for family/friends' babies this year. I don't know why they didn't listen when I commanded that no one else I know have any babies.

One of the stockings this year was for a baby that has already had one Christmas, I found out too late in the year to get it finished for his first Christmas. It was also a very complex, detailed design. This particular stocking was inspired by the art of Miles Pinkney. He did a great Steampunk Santa magazine cover picture. I took the Santa and gears from this cover art to create a Steampunk stocking. Unfortunately, the picture doesn't really show the fact that the ray gun and name are made with sparkly thread.

This year one of my friends from high school and his wife were blessed with their second son. They are more traditional in their tastes, so I went with a Victorian style Santa Claus design. I didn't design this one myself, it came from a magazine.

The final stocking I created this year was for my newest niece. Her mother requested a Nightmare Before Christmas design. I chose a sparkly night sky fabric to try to capture the feel of the movie, though the picture makes the sparkles a little hard to see. This stocking was designed for 30 count fabric, but is completed on 32 count because the perfect color was only available in that size. I made some adjustments, but the stocking came out a little smaller than intended.

I feel that my designs and patterns are getting better with each attempt. I have avoided using back-stitching and french knots in my patterns until the Nightmare Before Christmas stocking. That is going to take some time to perfect as an art, I even asked some people to beta test the pattern to see if they have any suggestions on improving the back-stitching details.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and that you can celebrate with those and in a way that brings you true joy.



Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Contaminated by Em Garner Review

Contaminated by Em Garner is a post-apocalyptic YA novel, I won it on Goodreads. It's the story of Velvet and her sister, Opal. They are orphans as a result of a prion disease outbreak that is the result of a diet drink, ThinPro, being contaminated with unsafe proteins. The disease results in aggressive behavior, loss of speech, increased clumsiness, and other symptoms that give the infected a zombie-like appearance but without them actually being dead.

The book begins with Violet going to a kennel, where the neutralized, contaminated people (or Connies) are kept so that family members can reclaim them. The contaminated people are neutralized with a shock collar. Violet is looking for her mother.

Violet is struggling to survive and support her sister in this new world, she goes to school for half a day and then works the rest of the day. Though the contamination affect different areas of the country in different degrees, many basic services haven't been restored. There is martial law and curfews. Feral Connies still show up periodically, as the illness can lie dormant for extended periods of time based on how much a person drank and how contaminated the batch was.

I haven't read any of Em Garner's novels for adults, I hadn't even heard of her until running across this book on the FirstReads giveaway list. The story is an easy and quick read, it is well paced. The characters are pretty believable. There were a few spots that even made me laugh, especially one bit about kissing, boys, and pizza. It's an infection story more than a zombie one, but the world she set up works well. I look forward to reading the next book.

Happy reading!

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Thoughts about Gender

I have been contemplating this post for several days. I can already see my husband's eyes rolling in his head as he reads it. I got into a conversation on Twitter a couple of weeks ago, something that I can't avoid doing from time to time despite the fact that Twitter is a terrible place for any real intellectual discourse. Who can be eloquent and clear in only 144 characters? Most of us seem to have trouble with that with much more space, or at least I do.

An issue related to the term "cisgender" came up, a term I'm not really fond of. It started me thinking about gender roles and concepts in general.

First, I want to clarify my use of terms. I'm sure you are already aware of this distinction, but I want to make sure there is no misunderstanding about what I write next. The words sex and gender are often used interchangeably, but they aren't actually the same thing. A person's sex is their biological male or femaleness, it only describes the reproductive organs and secondary sexual characteristics that they are born with and develop in puberty. Gender is the societal expectations for each sex. The roles, behaviors, personality traits, and attitudes expected from a person with male or female sexual organs. These concepts are largely stereotypical and puts everyone in nice safe boxes. I can't say the behavior of men and women is totally a concept of society because of the scientific evidence shows that there are physical differences in their brains, this is a product of many years of evolution and our roles eons ago. I don't believe however, that we need to let such things continue to define us in modern society.

I am rather an odd person in many ways, when I think of myself, the first thing that I think isn't that I'm a woman. I know that I am female, but for me it's not a defining aspect of myself as a person. I don't think of myself as a women first. It doesn't define my interests, views, personality, or opinions (most of them at any rate), so for me it is a secondary characteristic though it's one of the first thing other people notice. As an adult, I have frequently questioned my "girl card" points. I have given birth to a child (I look forward to the day that the men who wish to can experience this joy for themselves), so I'm definitely female, but I wonder how "girly" I am.

My "Girl" Points
  • Went through the horse crazy stage as a kid
  • Baking
  • Cross-stitch
  • Liked pink most of my life (not my favorite color now)
  • Blubber like a baby at movies, tv shows, and books
  • Like dancing
My "Not Girl" Points
  • Don't care about shoes
  • Don't like shopping
  • Don't like jewelry
  • Don't like chocolate (want it, maybe, once a year)
  • Don't want flowers as a gift
  • Don't like romance novels (though I had a phase as a teen)
  • Love scifi/fantasy and horror
  • Not overly sentimental
  • Would rather do yard work than housework
  • Don't like make-up (wear it for work so I don't look like a ghost)
  • Was never boy crazy
  • Never did the squeally, screechy girl thing
  • Never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom
  • Don't care about fashion 
  • Bread winner
  • Linear thinker
  • Analytical/logical thinker
I realize a lot of the things listed above are based on stereotypes, that's all that our concepts of gender really are: a series of  societal expectations that have nothing to do with people as individuals. I think this is detrimental to individuals and society. My mother took a test in high school to see what she should do with her life, this was in the 60's, and they added a letter to her name which made it seem she was male. With the male name, she was told she should be a mechanic or engineer. Well, they sent the same test in with her real name and she was told she should be a teacher or nurse. Today, we call this sexist, and it is, but it has to do with these stereotypes society has about men and women. Some of them have eased up, some continue just as strongly.

Men are just as trapped by these stereotypes as women. My husband was a stay-at-home dad for 7 years. I got all kinds of disapproving looks and comments because I was the bread winner and things were tight for us. If he had been the one to work, and I had stayed at home, no one would have questioned it even if finances were tight. I pointed this out to someone once, their comments ceased. The concepts are so endemic that we don't even realize that we hold these views until it's pointed out. People also seem to think that the word sexist only applies to treatment of women. People are sexist against men, too. Men can be incredibly nurturing people and parents, though traditional gender roles express a different opinion. If a man wants to be a nurse, it's been assumed that he's feminine (therefore also gay) or not smart enough to be a doctor. Admittedly, this attitude has lessened in the last few years as more men enter the profession. Men that want to teach young children face this sexism as well, but it's not assumed that they are gay rather that they must be pedophiles.

I am saddened that some in forward thinking communities are still trapped by these concepts of gender roles. I know that some people don't understand why others aren't comfortable with the label "cisgender". I can't speak for all, but I can speak for myself. Just like many don't like the labels that have been applied to them because of the stereotypical concepts that come with that box, the same happens when labels are applies to others. Some have already attached stereotypes to anyone that is "cisgender". I don't believe in "default", I don't believe in "normal"; I just believe in people. Such labels only serve to separate and divide us, because the labels become more important than the fact that we are all human.




Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Getting a Pet and Puppy Mills

Our Jester dog
 I recently read Bones in Her Pocket by Kathy Reichs which addresses the horror of puppy mills. At the end of this novella, she included an exceptional letter about such mills. I am including her letter here, which I have already posted on my Facebook page, with her permission. Please read it and carefully consider where you get your next pet.



You Can Help Stop Puppy Mills



As a forensic anthropologist I’m daily faced with the malice humans cause one another.  As an owner of five rescue animals, I’m distressed by cruelty to all species.  Occasionally, these paths intersect.  Bones brought to my lab turn out to be a sackful of puppies, weighted down by a rock.  It’s hard for the heart to understand such brutality.  And nothing is more merciless than a puppy mill.

A puppy mill is defined as a ‘factory farm’ for dogs.  Some are legal and some are illegal.  Government regulation is lax, if it exists at all.  The ‘crops’ are raised in cages, often in the minimum legal space allowed.  Females are bred as frequently as possible, and discarded when no longer fertile.  It’s a life with no joy, no love, no hope.  The dogs are sick, starved, and sad.  They have never played on the grass.

Thousands buy dogs from puppy mills annually, most believing they are getting their pet from a responsible breeder.  Inhumane breeders owners seduce people into “puppy love,” either in pet stores or through online photos. The Humane Society estimates there are 10,000 puppy mills across the country.  Collectively, they sell 2 million to 4 million puppies nationwide each year from facilities where breeding dogs remain caged their entire lives, sustained solely to provide offspring sold for profit.  My home state of North Carolina is one of the worst offenders, with no state-required inspections and no laws governing breeders who sell to the buying public.

You can help prevent animal abuse.  Here are eight things you can do to stop the horror of puppy mills:

  • Adopt your next pet.  The perfect pet is waiting for you at one of the thousands of shelters and rescue groups across the country. If you want a particular breed, you can locate one by contacting a breed-rescue organization.
  • Don't buy a puppy online or from a pet store. If you buy a puppy, you’re most likely supporting the puppy mill industry.  If you must buy, please do your research to be sure your puppy isn’t from a mill.
  • Take action against pet stores that sell puppy mill dogs.  Ask pet store owners to consider switching to a humane business model. If the store refuses to change, hold a peaceful rally or written campaign in protest.
  • Advocate for stricter breeding laws. Write or call your city, county, state and federal officials and ask them to take these issues seriously. These communications influence legislators. To help change your city, county, and state laws, sign up to receive action alerts from Voices for No More Homeless Pets at yourvoice.bestfriends.org.
  • Speak out in your community. Write to the editors of newspapers and local news about puppy mills that keep their animals in unacceptable conditions.
  • Elect animal-friendly candidates. Ask candidates if they support regulating commercial breeders and what they would do about puppy mills.  Let them know you support stricter puppy mill regulations and you vote.
  • Raise awareness and/or donations.  Organize a walk, conduct a bake sale or car wash, or set up a table at local events to raise awareness and funding for animal rescue and breeding regulation.
  • Don't give up. The fight against puppy mills and inhumane breeders has been going on for decades.  Things won't change overnight, but we’ve seen progress. If you educate just one person about the horrors of puppy mills or convince just one person to adopt rather than buy a pet, you've made a difference.

 
Having a pet is a great thing! We love our cats and dogs. My family adopted our dog through a shelter to be an emotional support animal for my husband. We'd have taken his brother, too, if we could have afforded it or had the room. Our cat was adopted from a friend of a friend because her owner was moving out of the country and didn't have time or money to do the necessary paperwork to take her beloved animal with her.


As many of you may know, Jester was hit by a car about a year ago. Thanks again to all of you that helped with his emergency vet bills, you will never know how much it meant to us.

My husband and I have only ever bought one pet, that was our first cat. All of the rest of the animals that we have had, have been adopted. Most of these were through acquaintances that just wanted the animal to have a good home with loving people. When we had to leave a pet behind in a move, we've always made sure to find them a home rather than take them to a shelter (adult animals are too hard to adopt).


The point of all this is that when you are looking for a pet, you should adopt rather than buy. There are many animals in need of homes, if homes aren't found for them, they are put down. If you must buy PLEASE do in-depth research on who you are buying from. Most breeders are puppy mills, they are in it for the money, it's BIG business. I am adding my voice to Kathy Reichs, research, speak up, speak out, and adopt first!