Our fridge is one of those Smeg style ones, about 7ft tall and with one hell of a powerful suction on the door. Sometime you have to practically wrestle it open, which is what happened to me on Saturday.
So its about 10am and I'm awake and in the kitchen I'm immaculately dressed, with perfectly groomed hair and full face of make up (pink jama's, hair shoved up in a bobble and possible slight smears under ones eyes where make up has been quickly removed with a baby wipe) and I'm wrestling with the fridge door to try and find something cold to drink (slight hangover from previous nights 'what the hell it's Friday night' vodka or six).
I manage to eventually pull the door open and realise a jar of mayonnaise has jumped out of the fridge and is falling towards me. I panic, try to catch the jar, fumble it and actually throw it further in the air. I appreciate, for me, the story has been fairly normal up to this point, however this is where it gets ridiculous. It could however have been so easily avoided. *press pause*
HOW THIS WHOLE SITUATION COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED
- By buying mayonnaise in a squeezy bottle, which we normally do, for some reason (cost I presume) we currently have a huge glass jar of the stuff in the fridge.
- By buying extra light instead of just normal mayonnaise, the jar would have obviously floated out of the fridge
- By putting the mayonnaise back in the door or on a shelf and not perching it in a can holder in the door where it is ALMOST BLOODY CERTAINLY going to fall out when you open the BLOODY SODDING DOOR! (Investigations are ongoing as to who is responsible for this)
The jar doesn't hit the floor it hits my foot! 'Oh darn it, that smarts just a touch' I think to myself ! I look down to see whats going on and I go a bit funny (ooh actually I went a bit funny then just typing it, I might have to have a Kitat just for the shock). Where I expected to see a foot and an intact jar of mayonnaise, there is a glass disc, an empty glass jar, a lot of mayonnaise, and EVEN MORE BLOOD!!!
WHY IS THERE BLOOD EVERYWHERE? (aka 'the science bit)
Here's why (what I now know happened when the jar fell)
- The jar fell from approx my eye level (about 5ft 7) and hit my foot.
- On hitting my foot the heavy glass base sheared cleanly off the jar.
- Despite the lid remaining on the jar, the mayonnaise escaped.
- Either the glass base or the glass edge of the jar sliced through a blood vessel on the top of my foot
So I'm there, as my foot pumps blood into the mayonnaise on the kitchen floor. I shout for Syd (in the back room with the xbox - like cluedo just more up to date!) to go and get his Dad out of bed, Syd takes one look at what is now, quite frankly, turning into a bloodbath, and runs off screaming for his Dad at the top of his voice.
Now prone as I am to slight embellishment, I am absolutely telling the truth here, there is blood pumping out of my foot at an alarming rate. I decide to try and wrap it in a tea towel to stop the bleeding, or stem it at least. Now this, that I'm about to tell you is a useful tip, that, if you're wise, you'll take with you throughout life.
BLOOD MIXED WITH MAYONNAISE ON A TILED FLOOR IS SLIPPY!!!
I know! I was shocked too! So I'm no nearer to reaching a tea towel, I am however now lying on the floor on my side, where I have slipped over. At this point Phil arrives, with Joe and Syd hot on his heels, in the kitchen. He obviously was aware about the handy hint regarding blood/mayo/tiled falls as he stops short of the blood and therefore remains on his feet.
He looks down at me in complete horror. In hindsight I realise I am dressed from head to toe in pink and am lying in a foetal position in a mixture of blood and mayonnaise, which has taken on the look of marie-rose sauce. Its highly likely that I look like a giant prawn cocktail!
He's very good actually and calls 999 immediately, the children are past themselves with worry.
- Syd crying and shouting 'Are you going to die?'
- Joe taking photos of the blood to put on Facebook later
For some reason at this point I take very badly to the idea of using my red washing up bowl for anything other than washing up and point blank refuse to put my foot in it. Strangely at exactly this point, Phil's patience runs out, I still have bruises on my calf where he wrestled my foot into the washing up bowl.
At this precise moment Joe decides he is going to faint and comes over all unnecessary in the kitchen doorway. (Come son, join me in the blood and mayonnaise, there's room for one more!) He thankfully doesn't faint. Actually I'm convinced the blood has nothing to do with him feeling faint, its the first time in his life he hasn't had free access to the fridge, it's highly likely he's in the grip of malnutrition/shock.
I'm irritated by whoever is making that shrill high pitched screeching noise, and I'd like them to shut up. If I'm going to bleed to death I'd like to do it in peace. Its only when Phil tells me to shut up because he can't hear the 999 lady, that I realise its me that's making the noise. Goodness how embarrassing.
So it would seem that Phil and the 999 lady have decided that its quicker for him to drive me to hospital than wait for an ambulance. Which is why Saturday morning sees me laid on the back seat of the car with my foot wrapped in a towel, inside a carrier bag, in blood stained jama's and my dressing gown heading for A&E.
Despite looking like the Dingles in A&E, and almost vomiting on myself because Syd is parading around the room wearing the cardboard hat they have given me should I feel the need to puke, I survive the experience.
I'm sure I'll look back on this and laugh.