If you know me, you know I can't stand the sight of blood. I can't even help it, I try very hard not to pass out, but it just happens, things go dark, I get dizzy. I got asked to stop donating blood. I want to do it, I have AB-(if I remember right) and it's the rarest blood type and I want to help. But when your body goes into shock when you donate and you pass out, it kind of scares other people. So I'm allowed to go and have cookies while waiting for Kerry, who has pipes ripe for drilling and takes only minutes to donate. I don't go, it's like rubbing salt in my wounds.
What the heck am I getting at?
The neighbour's dog, Wilson, was in the yard and Linus found a new spot to squeeze under the fence, we thought we had 'fixed' it all. As he's going under, I grab him and stop him but this causes him to turn on me and growl, which gets him a growl from me and a figure 8 collar and in turn rips off 1/2 my finger nail. Of course, I let go, and under he goes. Even though he is having a good ol' time running around with Wilson, I drag him home with the concern of the neighbour following me. You see...I'm dripping blood from my finger. I drag that mangy mutt up the stairs and without looking I clean my bloody stump up and put a bandage on it tighter than I probably should have. Then I call Kerry. His boss must know about my problem and Kerry called back ASAP. But I put on my big girl panties and said I was fine, even though I was super queasy. Shaun will be home in a few minutes and I will have him look at it.
Now if only the blood bank would take my sink full of blood as a donation.