"Ouch, Dang it! That's gonna leave a mark."
And it did. I looked down at my forearm and saw the shiny sign of my clumsiness. I swear I burned myself on the char broiler tonight like 10 times. It was my fourth day at my new job at Carl's Jr. tonight. I tried to be careful but let's face it, I'm a total klutz.
I have my fair share of battle scars. I've got scars on my knuckles from tearing computers apart. I very distinctly remember the first time I opened my first computer. And of course me being me, I drew blood.
The teacher had just given up on a computer and asked who wanted to tear it open and part it out. I eagerly volunteered. I grabbed a screwdriver and dove in. Unfortunately, no body told me how sharp computers are. I was wrestling with a particularly stubborn screw when my screwdriver decided that friction was no longer in effect and went flying. Of course my hand followed.
"Flip! That hurt."
I reached into the case to chase after the runaway screwdriver and ended up having to pick up the tower to shake it out. When I finally got ahold of it I happened to glance at the back of my hand. It was rather brilliant shade of red.
"Dagnabit!"
I ducked my head into the case and saw the evidence of my hand all over the hard drive. That didn't make it into the keep pile.
I have battle scarred knuckles due to my love/hate relationship with computers. I rarely part out a computer without a blood sacrifice to the tech gods.
Now I'm slowly earning my battle scars from diabetes. Mostly from the constant testing. As I was showering yesterday I took a good look at my pruning hands. My fingers don't look like they did a year ago. A year ago my fingers were unmarked and pruned just like everyone else's fingers. Now... They look like Normandy.
And it did. I looked down at my forearm and saw the shiny sign of my clumsiness. I swear I burned myself on the char broiler tonight like 10 times. It was my fourth day at my new job at Carl's Jr. tonight. I tried to be careful but let's face it, I'm a total klutz.
I have my fair share of battle scars. I've got scars on my knuckles from tearing computers apart. I very distinctly remember the first time I opened my first computer. And of course me being me, I drew blood.
The teacher had just given up on a computer and asked who wanted to tear it open and part it out. I eagerly volunteered. I grabbed a screwdriver and dove in. Unfortunately, no body told me how sharp computers are. I was wrestling with a particularly stubborn screw when my screwdriver decided that friction was no longer in effect and went flying. Of course my hand followed.
"Flip! That hurt."
I reached into the case to chase after the runaway screwdriver and ended up having to pick up the tower to shake it out. When I finally got ahold of it I happened to glance at the back of my hand. It was rather brilliant shade of red.
"Dagnabit!"
I ducked my head into the case and saw the evidence of my hand all over the hard drive. That didn't make it into the keep pile.
I have battle scarred knuckles due to my love/hate relationship with computers. I rarely part out a computer without a blood sacrifice to the tech gods.
Now I'm slowly earning my battle scars from diabetes. Mostly from the constant testing. As I was showering yesterday I took a good look at my pruning hands. My fingers don't look like they did a year ago. A year ago my fingers were unmarked and pruned just like everyone else's fingers. Now... They look like Normandy.
Nothing but craters in each finger tip. But these scars are worth it. They are a result of my battle with diabetes. They are what will tip the odds into my hands. The more craters I have the more control I have and the further diabetes gets beaten back.
I'm proud of my craters. I will win this war.
I'm proud of my craters. I will win this war.
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2 comments:
Welcome to the Diabetes OC, Jess!
Come visit me some time at www.diabetesmine.com?
Best,
AmyT
Thanks Amy, I'll definitely go read. Right now I'm trying to catch up on Kerri Morrone's blog. I'll stop over at yours soon.
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