The Lost Plum…

This isn’t the post that was supposed to go out today. I have the next two weeks already set (preposted) which is exciting, yes? I mean I find it exciting, although more convenient so I can do work and move (I’m moving…down the street!)

So, about 1 ½ years ago I found myself in the hospital. I guess what happened is my heart rate dropped so low (it runs really low in general, but that’s another story) that I passed out and had a seizure. The seizure part I don’t know about, but all I know was I woke up on the ground with the ambulance guys already around me and my foot hurt. Then I sorta remember being at the hospital and my foot still hurt. My mom showed up two days later to find me hooked up to a million wires in the hospital still crying about how much my foot hurt.

SIDEBAR: I was talking to my roommate when I passed out. I was in the doorway to my room and was holding onto the handle…what we think happened is I pulled the door shut on my way down closing it on my foot.

Mama Plum convinced them to x-ray my foot, which was the size of a baseball, and I couldn’t stand up on, so I would one-legged hop to the bathroom along with all my machines (cause no way in hell is this Plum is using a bed pan!)

X-rays back: They tell me it’s nothing, I just hit it and the swelling will go down in a few days. I spent about 2 months not being able to wear anything but flat shoes (and if you know me that is a travesty) and limping every once and awhile.

Fast-forward about 4 months. I went to the doctors for a check up (a new doctor) and I happen to mention my foot still bothered me now and again. He asked if I wanted to get an x-ray, I said yes.

SIDEBAR: This is the one thing I love about the American health care system. If you’re willing to pay for it you can have it. You can literally walk in be fine and say “ I want a EKG and an MRI done” and as long as you pay they do it.

X-rays back and there plain as day are 3 count them 3 hairline fractures in my right foot, and one which has healed it’s self in a not so hot kind of way!

Now my foot is pretty much better, sorta, well not really. But I get around fine on it, but every once and awhile it hurts. This I notice the most when it is cold outside. Really cold weather, or damp weather affects our joints and bones, and I’m sure if you have any type of injury such as mine you know what I’m talking about (don’t get me started on my knee when it’s raining)

So last night I wake up in pain. I’m alone, cold, and feel like my foot is broken!

My point is broken bones are kind of like broken hearts. They heal sure, but every once and awhile they pop up out of nowhere and cause you alittle pain. And it’s usually those times when you’re all alone in the dark cold room.

Then there are broken hearts like my foot. Little tiny fractures that go un reported because you don’t want to admit that maybe you are really broken hearted. Those heartbreaks that you push off as “meh it just didn’t work out” but really those breaks are the ones that maybe stay with you the most, that cut you the deepest. The ones you are silent about, that eat at you while you lay in bed, cold and alone. (with your foot propped up on a pillow)

I went to an early holiday party last night. Sure, I had a few to drink but I’m usually always pretty good at being aware of my surroundings and situations.  So I’m leaving the Upper East Side, and heading over to meet “Mr. Hilary” at his place.  I get in my cab, and tell him where I am going 96^th and Bway.

We’re driving.

My cab driver starts to talk, sometimes I can be into this, but most of the time especially at 11pm I’m not up for a conversation.  He starts asking if I’ve ever seen certain movies.  I don’t remember the first three or four he asked. Most of them I think I said a simple no or yes answer. 

Then he asked if I’ve ever seen the movie Closer.  I say yes, and said something along the lines about it being a better play. 

Cab Driver: “Oh yeah, is there still lots of striping in the play.” (or something like that)

Me: “ I guess so.”

(I was  getting a kind of creaped-out feeling…but hadn’t remembered all of our conversation up to this point)

Cab Driver: “Have you ever seen Sent of a Woman”

Me: “No.” (of course I had seen it but he was defiantly a creepy guy)

Cab Driver: “Oh it’s a great movie, very sexy.”

Me:  “I guess I’ll have to look into it.”

We are driving through the park and he turn to go up town.  I think for a minute, did I tell him the right street or did I space out and tell him to take me home to 112^th.

Me: “ I need to go to 96^th and Bway.”

Cab Driver: “No you don’t.”

Me: “ Umm..yeah I do. That’s where my boyfriend and I live.”  (of course he’s not my bf, and of course we don’t live together)

Cab Driver:  “ You have a boyfriend? Does he have a big penis? Can he sexually please you?”

Me:  “Umm…I can actually even get out at this corner too.”

I’m starting to freak a little bit. He just pass 106^th…..if he doesn’t turn by 110th, I’m jumping out! I’m seriously, just jumping out.  I take off my shoes, and place my hand on the door handle.

Cab Driver:  “ Have you ever made love to an Egyptian man?”

Me: (silent)

Cab Driver:  “ We are the best lovers in the world. You will love it.  You’re boyfriend can’t be Egyptian…(I didn’t get everything he said after I was watching stop lights and where we were more then listening by now)

He hit 109-RED LIGHT!

With my shoes in my purse, I jumped out of that cab, and slammed the door quicker then I can even fathom.  And ran faster then you can believe all the way to “Mr. Hilary” at 96th. And we headed to the emergency room.  I got a cut on my foot, which needed two stitches.

FACT: I will never date or even give any guy who is Egyptian the time of day now solely based on this experience.

So tonight I experienced the last night/concert at CBGBs downtown. (and I could go on a rant about how great it was, how exciting it was, but Im telling a different tale right now…but out of concerts I’ve been too I will NEVER forget this one!)

Being the dumb girly girl I can be, I obviously planned what I was wearing tonight! I mean

A: who doesnt do that and

B: you need to take things into consideration

[and C: So and So would tell mr. so and so if I looked bad in anyway].

I mean its cold out, but it will be hot in there, you can’t check coats, you are crowed cause the space is tiny (so you shouldn’t have a big bag or one at all) and my main concern I AM SHORT.  

(short at concerts = not ideal)
I mean I’m not that short but just under the average height of a woman. That’s all I’m saying! So in dressing this evening I thought I should wear higher healed shoes thus to SEE as best as I could (and I’ll admit it tall shoes make your ass look smaller, we all know this;) ) I know, I know, who wears heel to a concert. But I have to say I have done it many times, and nothing is worng with it. In fact I wear heled shoes more then 80% of the time.

So since well its CBGBs I’m dressed for comfort in my favorite  warn down jeans (I must stress Favorite pair as we come to this later!) a nice white shirt (role model clothing..cause of company involved), a black body suit under my shirt, because the tighter long sleeve shirt is see-through and this also makes me think twice about having to use the bathroom (if you have ever been to CBGBc you know what I’m talking about. Its beyond peeing in a cup territory!) and these nice comfortable black heels, which have an open toe. (now here in lied the problem, but they are the MOST comfy high shoes i own, its like Im wearing nothing. They are great Shoes! GREAT!!

Now before I left the following conversation was had with my self:

me: “Open toe might be a bad idea”
ME: “I know but these are comfy and great looking shoes”
me: “yes, but you have seen the floor there!”
ME: “This is true!”
me: “Oh I know, I’m smart like that!”
ME: “You are always thinking, Plum, so what should I do?”
me: “How about you wear those little socky things”
ME: “Great idea! They will cover my feet, keep them warm and no one will notice in the dark cause they are skin coloured!”
Me: “Right!”

So off I went with my little socky socks! So the night is going fabulously!! Its wonderful and then its ending, everyone is sorta making their way out and about, and still hanging around (Patti Smith has finished playing) and then………..

Out of nowhere this guy steps on my foot! Which I mean was bound to happen at some point and honestly it had already happened. But this man was different! This 40ish year old man wearing a Iggy Pop shirt (it was a great shirt I’ll give him that !) Was wearing these shoes, which for some reason must have had grips and or spikes and or RAZORS at the bottom of them. 

Now this HURT! It really did! The end of my left foot / toe was throbbing in pain. But the biggest problem was I couldn’t see my foot due to all the people, you could hardly bend over. 

(HURT!)
So I took a chance and headed towards the bathroom kind of limping, but trying to play this cool! I get towards the bathroom where there is more light and I hear this come from my lovely friend/date for the evening, in his glorious French Canadian accent : “Fuck, you’re bleeding out, dude!” (bleeding out!? DO I have Ebola!)

I look down and you see black shoe ending and my entire end of my foot is red with blood (due to the socky absorbing the blood) 

My first thought: Im going to die!

As we head into the bathroom the employ at the entrance explains to us there is no sex in the bathrooms and then when I show him my foot he asks, “you’re goin’ clean it in there?” 

My first thought: I’m really going to die!!
What was I thinking! I mean having a homeless man pee on my cut would probably be better then trying to clean it in that bathroom!

I start to hold back tears. As I sit up on the sink, my friend pulls my leg up so my foot can rest on the counter and he can look at it better, as he does so my jeans rip in the crotch!! They were my fav. Jeans! I swear out frustration and a little out of fear that now I’m going to die and have a rip in my jeans (what would my mother say!)

So there I am sitting on the sink with a rip in my jeans not wanting to remove my shoe. As he takes of the shoe and sock my left big toes starts dripping blood like crazy!!!

My first thought: I’m going to die! (I maybe said this vocally)

I grab it as he grabs paper towel out of stack lying on counter (EWWW!) we turn myself around so I place my foot in the sink (ewww) and he turns the water on (ewww)

I burns! It really burns!
My first thought: I’m going to die!

This girl who for some reason was coming in to use the bathroom (who does this) comes sorta up to me, makes some comment on how I really should have an exposed cut in this place, then turns to my friend and starts coming on to him (“oh my god, I know you, arent you…” blah blah blah!)

She then uses the bathroom. I mean dont give me a speech about how I’m getting a disease from my open cut and then place your bare bottom even close (hovering is still nasty here) on those toilets! 

My first thought: If I’m getting a disease its from people like you! You nasty jersey tramp! (her shirt said “Im a REAL jersey tramp!” cause people lie about that shit?) AND… I’m soo going to die!

So my friend calms me down, we clean up most the blood and look at my toe (my left big toe) down at my toe and at the tip, the end as if its clean cut off ( totally razors at the bottom of his shoe) a huge chuck of skin is missing. As if it was shaved off. We try to figure this out as we look at it in-between covering it to soak up blood. Lets not all forget that due to my lovely thin blood Im a bleeder (with an average clot time of 14 minutes!) 

My first thought: Im seriously bleeding, and I’m AB-, Im soo going to die!

We wrap my toe up in paper towel, take the sock of the other foot, and place it on this one to keep towel in place. Put my shoes back on leave the bathroom and walk out the door. He calls the car, and we make our way through the huge crowd, down the street and into the car. 

We head to the emergency room at New York Down Town Hospital (cause the driver said it was the closest) Now I have never been to this one, and [meh], it wasnt to bad!

We fill out some forms, and blah de blah! Then I waited for a doctor/nurse or whatever.

Im thinking: I touched that bathroom and didn’t wash my hands. Where is the hand sanitizer in this hospital? I’m soo going to die!

So they examine my foot and say a bunch of stuff, I dont remember these things, tell me they can’t stitch it up due to the skin being tight in the area and it like a huge chunk just missing. They then are going to send someone in to clean it/ wrap it and what have you. They then ask if they can talk to me alone regarding medical history and the what not. I say that my friend can stay cause what do I care. They basically tell me its best if I answer the questions alone due to privacy issues. He says its cool and wants to make some phone calls and will come back in a few. 

He leaves and BOOM. this nurse jumps in about how it’s ok to tell them if my ‘boyfriend’ cut me. I was like

A: in shock and

B: speechless. 

My first thought was : I could be dieing and all you care about is if he attacked me! And plus, what kind of guy cuts his girl friend on the toe! 

Now abusive relationships are a serious deal, but ladies if you boyfriend is cutting you on the toe, laugh at him and kick him in the face.

So I explain the story just as I had before! She kind of looked at me like I was making it up! (I mean my life is such a performance I dont need to make this shit up!) She then asked a few more questions, and then cleaned and dresses my cut. The doctor (or main doctor) came back in and asked when the last time I had a tetanus shot. I said like 8 years ago and that they are good for 10. He then tells me that, yes they are good for ten, but he would really recommend I get one due to the nature of the “establishment” this happened in. SO I have to get a needle.

My first reaction: I start to cry!

My first thought: I’m going to dye!

They let my friend come back in and this just makes it worse cause I’m trying not to cry in front of him, but at the same time they are coming at me with a needle. Which, I am sorry, but if I hear one more person ever tell me that a needle is just like a mosquito bite I swear I might kill them. They are nothing like mosquito bites, and I’m from northern Canada I should know these things!

So here I am with a bandage the size of a small country on my toe, a sore arm from my needle and an antibiotic (which I probably won’t even take)

But on the up side! I’m staying with my friend in his nice hotel room watching the shows I recorded on the TV in the room. On the free Internet, eating room services desert! 

My final thought: I guess I didn’t die, but I did add my blood to the bathroom museum of CBGBs…Im going down in history one landmark at a time!

FACT: Being short at concerts is never ideal. However, having all your toes is!

(reason #___ why I’m single: my life is just too much drama to handle)