God bless Kabuki. If the rest of my cats were the Real McCoys, he was "Grandpappy Amos". Sadly, he's no longer with me ... but that Fateful Day could've been a lot earlier in his illustrious life
Y'see, a few years ago, I had a panful of boiling grease -- the result of frying up a package of bacon . As I was transferring the grease to a trap at the side of the sink, he ran in front of me. Now, the handle of the pan was kinda loose, and was just about to come off -- and I knew the entire, scalding-hot mess would douse K-Cat!
So, instead of seeing him fatally burned, I pushed the handle down in a snap, and took the entire load of it on my left hand!
Now, I'm not gonna say it hurt, but it was at that very moment that I found I could dance a very mean Watusi.
I ran to the fridge, jerked open the freezer door with my good hand and stuck the parboiled one in a big bag of ice. Then I took the bag out, poured it into a pot I had on the stove and carried it to the coffee-table in the living room (yes, I had to take my already-swollen paw outta the ice to do it. My reaction to the immense pain nearly resulted in five new curse words added to the Merriam-Webster® dictionary ...).I laid down on the sofa and stuck my hand in the pot. The relief was overwhelming -- and I shortly fell asleep.
two hours later, I awoke (hand still in the ice) to find my cats had gathered around on the sofa and table -- staring at my crotch (I could swear that the smallest were giggling. K-Cat and the others just shook their heads in disbelief ...).
So it's not just warm water that loosens the ol' bladder, eh?? Gotta make a note ...
Two Tylenol®, a bottle of peroxide (poured, not drank) and an ace-bandage later, the pain was still so bad that I went to the local ER to be checked out. Two hours passed -- I was down to the last two buttons of my shirt. I'd already chewed the rest of them off -- and the doctor came to look at it.
"You need to have somebody take a look at it," he said. He meant someone called a reconstructive surgeon. I was just hoping he'd have come back with a hatchet and cut the darn thing off.
Instead, I drove to the pharmacy (he did prescribe medication to ease the pain. What, exactly, is "arsenic", anyway? ...), and they gave me a jar of some kind of cream to put on it as well. Of course, I was to keep it bandaged afterward ...
The next few days were ... well, eventful. Now, I also had two dogs -- one male, one female -- who were very well-trained. All I had to do is give a simple command like sit, stay, flush and they'd do it.
But, once, I walked into the computer room to try my hand (literally!) on the Compaq®, when I accidentally hit my bandaged-but-still-throbbing hand against the doorsill.
Now, I'm not gonna repeat what I said, nor how often I said it -- but, when I turned around, the hall was filled with little brown poops!
NOTE: Whilst the second-and-third degree burns apparently had done enough damage to warrant reconstruction, I chose against it. It healed perfectly, and today I have total use of the hand. Miracle?? Therapy?? Listen ... the most miraculous therapy I received was some loving cats gently rubbing against the bandaged hand, purring ... and tender doggy-licks as deep brown eyes gazed up at me as if to say, Daddy, you're gonna be alright ...
and, by the way: thanks for smearing the back of your bandage with peanut-butter!