some things....
some things are better left to the professionals. take ect, for instance.
wait. let me back up a bit.
you may recall my fear of being chased by cows. let's say it's more a fear of being chased, tripped, and squashed by cows. anyhow.
i wanted to borrow frances' bicycle last monday, and the shortest route is across the field. i hopped the fence and was half way across the grass when i spotted the cows, all clumped together by the fence at the far end of the field. by clumped together of course i mean they had put their heads together and were plotting the best way to chase me and then sit on me.
i decided my best option was to take a detour along top end of the field as this would put me right next to my sister's kitchen door. only thing between me and the kitchen door? an electrified cow fence.
so picture it. me, face-down in the grass, trying to wiggle under the fence. now the grass turned out to be wetter than it looked so i - wait for it - started to move away from the grass.
that's when the cow fence met my ass. zap! zap, zap, zap!
i know it's only a small voltage, but i have to tell you it hurt like a mo*therf*cker. 5 hours later my teeth were still ringing.
fast forward to thursday last week, where you'd find me in a full-scale meltdown, feeling so bad that to keep myself safe i had to go back to the psych ward for a little help. for the past 72 hours i've had the same conversation with a nurse, three doctors, and my therapist. they all wanted to know: "did anything out of the ordinary happen over the course of the week to trigger you?"
i honestly couldn't think of a thing. but then i remembered the incident with the electrified fence.
and that's when i decided: some procedures are best left to the professionals.
oh yeah, and next time i'm taking the road.
wait. let me back up a bit.
you may recall my fear of being chased by cows. let's say it's more a fear of being chased, tripped, and squashed by cows. anyhow.
i wanted to borrow frances' bicycle last monday, and the shortest route is across the field. i hopped the fence and was half way across the grass when i spotted the cows, all clumped together by the fence at the far end of the field. by clumped together of course i mean they had put their heads together and were plotting the best way to chase me and then sit on me.
i decided my best option was to take a detour along top end of the field as this would put me right next to my sister's kitchen door. only thing between me and the kitchen door? an electrified cow fence.
so picture it. me, face-down in the grass, trying to wiggle under the fence. now the grass turned out to be wetter than it looked so i - wait for it - started to move away from the grass.
that's when the cow fence met my ass. zap! zap, zap, zap!
i know it's only a small voltage, but i have to tell you it hurt like a mo*therf*cker. 5 hours later my teeth were still ringing.
fast forward to thursday last week, where you'd find me in a full-scale meltdown, feeling so bad that to keep myself safe i had to go back to the psych ward for a little help. for the past 72 hours i've had the same conversation with a nurse, three doctors, and my therapist. they all wanted to know: "did anything out of the ordinary happen over the course of the week to trigger you?"
i honestly couldn't think of a thing. but then i remembered the incident with the electrified fence.
and that's when i decided: some procedures are best left to the professionals.
oh yeah, and next time i'm taking the road.
