I’ll admit it. I’ve gotten a lot of really stupid injuries in my life. I broke three ribs in the Bahamas when a wave picked me up and threw me on the sand. Broke my elbow crossing the street. Broke my foot changing a shower curtain. Broke my nose doing laundry when the lid fell on it as I was leaning in pulling out my clothes. Yes, I’m fragile and I should probably have a handler and be encased in bubble wrap at all times. But my stupidest injury (to date) came courtesy of mashed potatoes. Picture it …
4:45 – As usual, I’m in a rush to eat and leave the house so that I can get to yoga at least 30 minutes early, which I actually consider late. As a result of my rash impatience, I shove a large spoonful of Bob Evan’s mashed potatoes immediately after pulling them out of the microwave. Shocking absolutely no one (but my dumb ass at the time) – they were the temperature of molten lava. 😳 🔥🔥🔥
4:46: Sweet fancy fuck – my throat is dissolving like the dude’s face in Raiders of the Lost Ark – at least it feels like it. I had Immediate severe pain and it felt like my throat was swelling and I was having difficulty swallowing water.
Me at 4:50: Googled how to treat throat burn – I know, I know – you should never google medical information and definitely never read the comments. Of course, the very first story is about a case of a man dying from eating super hot fish as a result of his esophagus swelling. What the actual fuck?! Is this how I die? From mashed potatoes? I guess people would be able to say “she died doing what she loved most” 🤷♀️🤦♀️🤷♀️
5:00: Massive panic attack ensues while driving myself to the ER as the pain increased and it got more difficult to swallow the cold water I was downing in an attempt to put out the internal flames in my esophagus..
5:15: I have to admit to the triage nurse I was there because of mashed potatoes 🤦♀️🫤 I am never going to get my dignity back. My bp was 159/120 with a pulse of 120.
5:45: I’ve been triaged and I’m already back from x-ray. Have now had to explain the mashed potatoes to three care providers. It gets more mortifying every time. There are only 6 other people in the ER waiting room – this is going surprisingly smoothly and I might be able to go home soon – unless I die of mortification.
9:30: I was such a sweet summer child four hours ago. I’m still in the waiting area and my phone battery is rapidly draining. I forgot to grab either my charging cord or a book. I’ve been starring into the abyss for hours and all hope is lost. There are not even enough people for entertaining people watching. This is where I will die – not from my esophagus swelling shut or even embarrassment – but of boredom.
10 pm: Finally! I’m making the move to an actual exam room – at least I will be closer to a crash cart when I finally succumb to ennui.
10:23: Oh good, a steroid shot: holy fuck that hurt – I wonder when it’s going to start working? Please sweet baby yoda be soon. It hurts to swallow and talk and it feels like I have several marbles lodged around my vocal cords but I’m in no rush to have to explain “the incident” again.
10:35: had to chug down some dreadful GI “cocktail” meant to numb the pain – 12/10 would not recommend – worst cocktail shot ever – but I would still tip the bartender because I’m not a dick.
11:30: I have been released! Discharge instructions include soothing my throat with ice cream and milk shakes! #winning 🤷♀️The sweet feeling of almost freedom begins to rapidly dissipate as I meander around in the cold, dark night air trying to remember where I parked my car.
11:45: The Burger King drive through employee has the audacity to tell me the milkshake machine has been turned off for the night. How very dare? Do we no longer live in a civilized society?
11:50: Words which have never before been uttered and never will again – “thank fuck for Arby’s they have saved me” – milk shake acquired. 12/10 would recommend
12:45 – sleep is never coming. Can’t take Ambien because I was told if I start drooling then I need to return immediately. This is fun. I’m fun. I live an exciting life. Try not to be jealous.
1:45: The milk shake has also betrayed me – I now have to get up to pee every 10 mins. My cat Zu (RIP) was very displeased with the constant interruption from her position as the little spoon.
3:43 am: Still not able to sleep. Out of nowhere my body turns into a furnace – I feel just shy of the temperature of the mashed potatoes that started all of this. Must be the steroids. Cue Poltergeist girl announcing “it’s here.”
4:06: Getting drowsy … might actually fall asleep … my phone alerts me that I have a text … who the fuck is texting me at this ungodly hour … it is my fucking Toothbrush 🤬 Sweet fancy fuck – I will salt it and burn it to the ground before burying it in a shallow grave. IYKYK – and if you don’t you will soon hear more about my electronic nemesis which may or may not be plotting an uprising against humanity which at this point I would welcome.) No Oral B – I do not want to drive around with a decal on my car. Fuck off!
6:43: Desperate to sleep but still getting up to pee every 10 minutes – at least I’m getting my steps in 🤷♀️
11:52 am: After maybe 23 total minutes of sleep, I am pick up my meds which include a Dairy Queen strawberry milk shake. I have a prescription therefore it not only counts as medicinal therapy but also a fruit. I’m quite sure that calories don’t count when following doctors orders. I don’t make the rules.
1:38: Still no sleep and the lidocaine “magic mouthwash” I have to gargle is whack. My mouth is numb and I feel like I’ve been to the dentist. My “nurses” are taking up all of the napping room on the couch. Still no sleep.
2:10: Can’t believe Bob betrayed me like this. Will I ever find joy in mashed potatoes again? Is there even a world without mashed potatoes?
Present day: It took a lot of exposure therapy and trust exercises but my relationship with mashed potatoes has been repaired. However, my relationship with my toothbrush …
