Tuesday, August 8, 2006

The human body (read: blood) can be fascinating...
Sunday was our band's first parade. It all went well, except for the fact that I had (and still have) the sickness. My throat was slightly tight on Friday and Saturday, I had a bad cough, and my nose was stuffy. :3
Anyways, I popped in some aspirin before we left for the parade, since my body was just weak and sore. It was raining, and my dad snagged a picture of the sort of 'umbrella city' that formed. Our band was stationed right in front of the church for about half an hour, more than that.
Joey, a senior who plays the giant bass drum, kept quoting Avenue Q. He must've said the line, "Lucy...the Slut!" about three times.

Anyways.

So we marched, and for the last minute, my left arm just totally breaks down. I gritted my teeth to continue playing the cadence, but my arm was shot. The cymbal was flopping all around, and I managed to pinch myself three times on my left arm. That's such a n00bish thing. Meh.
When I went to take my shower last night, I noticed there was this sort of red welt in line with my belly button. What the hell was THAT? Turns out I slammed the cymbal down a bit too hard and a bit too close to my skin. Ka-boom, injury.
Though I crashed on my left boob - twice - before even getting on the main route. That's for another time. (Read: never). =P

Currently in my novel-thingie-ma-bobber, one of the character just passed out because they lost a bit too much blood in a knife fight. So I went on Ask.com and hunted around for things about blood loss, just to make sure I was actually getting things right and not making up a load of crap.
I also learned some that solves a mystery for me.
When I was seven years old, my mom was buying juice bottles in six packs, connected by the plastic rings. You had to cut them open; you couldn't just slip one out.
I still remember the exact set up:

Both of my parents were watching TV in the family room. The kitchen, where I was, was right behind the family room, so their backs were to me. Me, being the idiot little kid, had out a cutting knife - one that we still have - to open the rings. Nope, no scissors for me! (Read: couldn't fine them.)
Well, I managed to cut open the ring, but I had so much force on there that the knife swept down and cut right into my left middle finger.
Ow.
I silently dropped the knife, clenched my right hand around the finger as tightly as I could, and rushed to the lower bathroom, closing the door. I opened my hand, and the tip of my middle finger is white. The wound was deep, and cut at an angle. Had I tried to lift up the skin, I couldn't, it was so sharp of an angle.
The area around the cut was purple. The blood gushing out was a dark red, if not purple, color. I freaked out, but didn't tell my parents, because they wouldn've killed me. ><

I ran my hand under water for a while before dashing upstairs and wrapping three bandages around the rather small wound. Of course, it healed, the area when I cut myself healed over in the shape of the cut (a blunt triangle), but I was always confused. A few times, I would bring up the incident, but nobody ever believed/knew of the "purple blood". "All blood is red" was what I was told by my biology teacher this past year. :P

Apparently not.

I learned earlier that what I had indeed done was cause venous bleeding, which can be showed in this sciency chart of science (which Shinkiro could probably disprove in an instant):



The red line indicates the cut. Or something.

OR IN OTHER WORDS, I basically cut deep down, going through my vein. That's not something every seven-year-old can say.

And now, I'm tired. (Read: Stop reading these things.)


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