So where was Trooper York.
No place good I'll tell ya.
There I was minding my own business watching that cheezy singing competition on Tuesday with my leg up on my easy chair. So I reach down to scratch my leg. And what do you know I start to bleed a little. I felt a little wetness and looked down and saw a little blood. You know like when you flick off a scab or something. So I think nothing of it and am watching some gay dudes from Tufts sing rock and roll acapella. Then I look down and it is really bleeding. So I get up and put my finger on the spot and walk into to the kitchen. When I take my finger off it starts to spurt out blood like crazy. Oh shit I say to myself. Did I scratch off an artery? There was blood all over the kitchen cabinet and a pool of it in my slippers and all over the floor. I put pressure back on it and go to my wife "Honey, you have to call 911." "She goes "Stop screwing around and while you up bring me some snacks.' "No I am serious." "What's the matter.' She comes in and sees the crime scene and starts screaming. "MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOURSELF!!!" "Errr I scratched myself could you call 911 I can't take my finger off the cut ya know." She runs to call 911 and to get dressed as we would proably have to go to the hospital.
About five minutes later about 40 people show up. The Fire Department, the cops and the EMT"S. They take a look and we realize that I just hit it in a bad spot and nicked a varicose vein and it just started pouring out. The pressure I put on had already clotted it and the spurting action was just from my veins being engorged with blood I guess. I am supposed to have this operation for a about a year now to fuse a valve that would help with this problem but I haven' t had any time. Anyway everything was cool and I didn't have to go to the hospital or anything. They just put a pressure bandage on and told me to stay off my feet.
So the wife laid down the law because I had scared her. I had to be a good boy and lay in bed with my leg up and not blog or sit a the computer or go to work or walk around or do anything.
You see she can be pretty tough. She always told me "Get better.... I hate it when you are sick...I ain't no Amelia Earhart."
But she is still my cookie and she is taking care of me. So now I feel much better. That bloodletting kinda helped. Maybe Jason (the commentor) can recommend a good physician who still believes in bleeding and leeches. Hey if it was good enough for Edmund Burke it is good enough for me.
Now back to starlets in bathtubs and Julie Newmar.