Originally posted on MySpace blog on 11/21/06
All right. Clearly, it's a good thing I'm not breeding yet.
Last night at rehearsal, I decided to start dressing up in my costumes. Dress-rehearsals start next week, but we were told we could start now if we wanted to. So, one of my first costume changes is into a snowman, complete with top hat and corn-cob pipe. My character, Felicity, is clumsy and not taken entirely seriously because she's the youngest. At one point in the scene where I am the snowman, one of the characters-- who's dressed as Santa-- whacks me with a bag of toys a knocks me to the ground.
Do you see where I'm going with this? I'll elaborate.
This was the first rehearsal I'd used the corn-cob pipe in. I'd actually just bought it, yesterday, for $3.00 (I'm so proud that I paid so little). In every rehearsal to that point, Santa had been smacking me in the face with the toy sack because, let's face it, that's funny.
Okay, you see where I'm going with this now, right? It's common sense to avoid getting hit in the face when you have a pointy something in your mouth. Children aren't usually taught this in school or anything, but it's sort of understood. It's stupid to get smacked in the face when there's a pointy stick in your mouth.
Well, that's not what I was thinking about at the time. I'm not sure what I was thinking, actually. It was probably something along the lines of, "I hope this looks funny." Sigh...
So, Santa smacks me in the face, and I fall like I'm suppose to. Before I fall, the pipe shoots all the way to the back of my throat. At the time, I thought the back of my tongue stopped it. I say, "I don't think that's going to work," and promptly start crying. The whole cast starts comforting me and asking if I'm going to be alright. I blubber that I'll be fine and that I always cry when I get hit in the face. One of my cast members comforts me with sarcasm.
"I love getting hit in the face. Sometimes I pay people to hit me in the face." She says.
Santa feels just awful, but I assure her that it's my fault, because I should have realized that wasn't a good idea. We reblock the scene so that Santa whacks me in the chest, and I don't even have the pipe in my mouth by that time.
We go through rehearsal with my throat sore. The whole time, I'm assuming I have a welt on my tongue. It wasn't until I came home and tried to show it to my mom, when she shrieked and informed me I had a hole in the back of my throat. I went into the bathroom, saying "No I don't", and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there was a hole the size of the mouth-piece of the pipe in the back of my throat. I promptly said, "Oh, I do."
So we looked online to see what action to take next. WebMD was down for updating, so I went on ask.com and typed in, "puncture wound to the back of the throat." I immediately got a link to a site that said the wound had to be treated within 6-8 hours after it occured (or else, I could get bad infections, like encephalitis or other scary things). So it was off to the emergency room.
Fortunately, most people had not been as stupid as I had and we got in right away. The doctor looked at the wound, I had x-rays taken, I recieved a shot of antibiotics in my butt (which is still sore, by the way), I was given a ten-day prescription of antibiotics and sent home. They told me that the inside of the mouth heals quickly and on it's own, so I should be fine.
I don't have health insurance, so they had me file paperwork for county aid. If I'm refused by the county, the hospital has a payment program for me. So, yes, I'm looking for a new or second job. I don't feel so bad about my lack of finding employement over the course of this year. There was a story in Sunday's paper about how there are just over 161,000 working people living in the High Desert, and just over 51,000 jobs for all of them, and those numbers keep rising, because more and more people keep moving here. So, as long as I can justify the gas I may look down the hill, again. We'll see.
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