My Kung-Fu Grip

I dremeled a guy's eyeball today.

Well, my computer is telling me by way of a red squiggly underlining, that drememled isn't a word.

So, i used a mini dremel-like tool to buzz away a rust ring on a guy's cornea. To get a good view, I got to use the slit lamp, which is like a specialized microscope; one that looks at eyeballs. During first year, it was the presenter of my most amazing memory.... quite possibly the most amazing thing I've ever seen. And, well, nerdy as it may be.... screw it... it was magical.

They cranked up the magnification so much, that the small blood vessels.... capillaries, in the whites of the volunteer's eye, looked like a red eight lane highway. Down that highway, which was projected on a tv screen in front of me, I saw a single red blood cell squeezing it's way down the capillary.

I couldn't believe it.

I know these things exist, i've seen illustrations, pictures in books from electron microscopes, and bloody wounds... but never anything like this. I don't know how to put it into words. My fellow classmates who were with me at the time, I'm sure can relate, and remember the feeling.... or maybe I'm blowing this way out of proportion... though I don't think so.

It was beautiful.

Circular, red, with a concave sort of center that made it appear as a red Certs mint. It moved with purpose, like a little soldier on a mission. It stretched the capillary as it squeezed it's way through the continually tightening tunnel. It actually contorted and squished, like a water-balloon being squeezed in your eager fist, ready to throw at your friend in the most epic of water-balloon fights.

So, needless to say I was excited when I learned that I could use the slit lamp today... and the burr, mini-dremel, tool.

Wait, you say I need to drill a little hole in this guy's eye? I say, YES.

Twisted? maybe. but, it wouldn't hurt him, as I'd numb his eye... and it would help him feel better. Everything goes off without a hitch, my hand stays steady, as we're dealing with millimeters between success and essentially popping this guy's eye. I didn't pop it.

It was a great day.

I came home to a sunny backyard, where I fired up the grill, and placed my 3 separate kabobs, which I had painstakingly cut, seasoned and skewered while talking to my folks on the phone. They cooked perfectly.... some slight charring on the red peppers and onions... properly roasted garlic, and juicy chicken.... Oh my sweet Jebus, they look so good. I decide to celebrate my mini-victory of a day with a beer to top off my meal.... and what's this? Spicy peanut sauce to dip my kabobs in? why yes, i will put some in a small dipping sauce type bowl....

I stack the mini bowl on the top of my 3 kabobs which lay atop a quite normal circular plate. the Sierra Nevada goes in my right hand... it is my right hand man, after all... This celebration is going upstairs, to watch the twins absolutely destroy the Mariners....

could it get any sweete.... AHO..EEEEE..WHOA!!!!!!!

"Son-of-a!" I say with a thud.

As i look at the mess i've just created, and think of the streak of not falling up the stairs that I had just snapped... I'm so bummed, disappointed and somehow amused. There's more tai peanut sauce on my pant-leg than is left in the mini serving bowl, and possibly even more on the hardwood floor... i realize my left elbow is slightly scraped, as I must have gone down hard... or at least awkwardly, in my partly unsuccessful attempt to save my food and beer from tumbling down the stairs. One kabob is completely laying on the ground in front of my face, which is nearly resting on the floor... I'm face to face with my dinner, on the floor. The first thing I think, as I'm staring at my floor dinner is, "I'm still gunna eat you."

The beer bottle is still upright in the GI-Joe Kung-Fu grip of my right hand, though it's much less full than it used to be, as it's foamed over the brim, and is still running down my hand and creating an ever growing puddle of beer on the landing, which is just one step above the more viscous, albeit less mobile, puddle of tai peanut sauce. "I'm not going to eat you."

"What happened?" I hear Rich say, from the kitchen.

"I fell up the stairs." I reply.

"Did Jacob get in your way?" He flicks back... Jacob's the cat. and, though I wish I could blame this on Jacob, I cannot. As I peeled myself from the newly appointed dinner table, I turn to look down the stairs, and that grey and white Jacob, with his little purple collar, is sitting politely at the bottom of the stairs, just staring at me.

The ONE time cat! the ONE time you don't weave your way between my legs as i walk up the stairs... the ONE TIME! How many times my coffee has nearly spilled on your pristine white coat because of your shenanigans... but this time, nothing? did you cast a spell on me? was this some sort of ju-ju???? what's UP Jacob?

"No, I wish I could blame it on him... Just a good old fashioned tripped over my own foot." I answer back, as i'm picking my dinner up off the floor.

After cleaning up my mess, and eating my dinner, without the slightest hesitation... I think about how if this is the worst thing about my day.... I'm a really lucky schlub.

That being said, I came to a few conclusions today-

Jacob's some kind of Gypsy-cat, and this was his revenge for me not ever letting him in my room.
I'll eat food off the floor, without hesitation... and i'm not ashamed of it.
I still tend to trip up the stairs, rather than down.
and
I'm a really lucky schlub, and I try not to take that for granted.... i mean, how is it that I was so careful and precise today with my patient's eye, but I can wipe out just walking up the stairs? I'll fall up the stairs every day if that's where my clumsiness decides to manifest itself.