I’m guessing that puts thoughts in some of your heads that make you go, “Hmmmm.” Diane did the same thing, but she wanted me to go to the emergency room to have a professional look at it. I didn’t think it was necessary because I was tired, hungry, and just wanted to sit down for a while in a quiet place and wait to see if my thumb would turn a different color. That’s usually what my body parts do when I break them.
Not this time, however. It didn’t even swell up. It just hurt. A lot. For a long time. All the way to my shoulder. “How,” you may ask, “can a normal human being hurt their thumb that badly on a toilet without slamming their hand under the lid?” It’s complicated, but I’ll see if I can explain without pictures …
You see, Wednesday, Daniel and I worked diligently to accomplish our goal of getting the linoleum put down. We did that, but I was an incredible mess by the time we were done. The glue was everywhere. If you leave it on your hands long enough it will glue your fingers together. I know that’s can. Daniel helped peel from my sticky fingers.
After cleaning up a little, we used a really heavy roller, that we got from Don’s Rental, to squish out the air bubbles under the linoleum. There weren’t many bubbles, but the roller smoothed out the flooring nicely. Once that was done we called it a day and I went home. Sore and tired.
Yesterday the goal was to get the toilet installed. Doing that required us to replace the sheet rock behind the toilet. I have no memory of why we found it necessary to remove it, but we did. Replacing it was a simple task that required only two trips to ACE Hardware for drywall screws and whatnot. Jack was working today so we got to see him on one of the trips. One of the ex-Mayors of St. Helens was working today, too. He’s Diane’s cousin so we greeted to him, also.
While getting the drywall bolted to the wall, Daniel asked one of the children to clean the toilet so we could install it when we were ready. This caused a complication in the other work going on around the house which Diane was supervising. She had all three of the resident kids, plus a couple of their friends, cleaning up everything, from the roof down, all the way to the street. It was impressive because all she had to do was give instructions once, then walk around the house once in a while smacking a large spoon into the palm of her left hand. They all realized the threat and worked really hard. Besides that motivation, they were all working to earn money for the Columbia County Fair which started yesterday. The fair also has a rodeo which is always fun to watch, partly because Jack, Jack’s first wife’s brother, is the rodeo announcer.
Sorry. I’m getting a little off track, aren’t I?
One of the children took a feeble stab at cleaning the toilet, but it wasn’t quite good enough to install on a brand new floor. So, Daniel cleaned it up again, then we added a brand new wax ring, set the toilet bowl, and bolted it to the floor. It was during this last evolution that I think I broke my thumb. Here’s how I did it … I had already tightened the left bolt and was working on the right one, while resting my chest on the toilet seat. I was using a box end wrench to tighten the nut and it was going well until the metal washer shifted to one side into a position that would not have allowed the plastic cap to be snapped to the underlying receptacle. You know what I’m talking about … this little bubbles on the sides of toilets that always get sucked into your vacuum cleaner if you don’t secure them properly.
Anyway, I felt a compelling need to adjust the washer to allow the cap to get by it so it would snap in place. I did this by losing the nut a little then used the box end of the wrench to push the slippery washer back into place. Sadly, I didn’t loosen the nut enough the first time and had to exert far more pressure than necessary to accomplish the task. Of course it slipped off and, since pressure was being applied in the direction of the toilet, the second joint of my right hand slammed into the toilet bowl really, really hard. It hurt a lot.
After the pain receded to a tolerable level, due to the rapid intake of air while make the “SSS” sound through clenched teeth, I looked at it and determined that it wasn’t a job ending injury, because it wasn’t purple, I realigned the washer and tightened the nut. Then Daniel attached the tank, and the plumbing, and we were ready for the “flush” test to see if it leaked. It didn’t so we quit while we were ahead and so I could go home and ice my poor little thumb, which I did.
Diane wanted to take me right to the emergency room, but I showed her that it wasn’t an odd color and the only time it hurt really bad is when I try to touch my injured thumb to my little finger (on the same hand). I cannot do that. So I don’t.
Now it’s Friday and a lump had started growing on my injured digit which, Diane thinks, might be because I’ve been typing all this time. I explained, however, that typing does not required me to touch my thumb to my little finger, so it’s OK. Still, I sense that she will find a way to get me to Urgent Care so they can take a picture of it and see if there are any bone fragments floating around in there.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
Oh … Diane wasn’t really smacking a spoon in her hand to keep the kids busy. They all worked really hard and were a huge help getting things cleaned up outside. Diane was pleased, as ware Jennifer & Daniel.
Now I must dress and mind Diane and go see a doctor.