Being trained as a core group leader this week has cut into blog writing significantly. All summer I have had just a few appointments or responsibilities that happened before 10:00 am. This week we had training both Tuesday and Thursday morning. Add to the training, having to find something to do Wednesday afternoon while the housekeeper was here and choir last night...it has nearly worn me out. Worn out in a good way. Oh add an appointment with my therapist Tuesday afternoon and an old fashioned blood letting right before her appointment. Maybe it was the loss of blood that has made me so tired. I feel like I will tell the story of the bloody hands...bahahahaha, she said in her best scary and eerie Halloween voice. For those of you who are Baptist like me and aren't supposed to say Halloween...the story of the bloody hands....bahahaha she said in her best Fall Festival voice.
So after a delicious lunch with the leadership of the Katy Community Bible Study, I headed into Houston for my 5000 mile check up with my therapist, Cheryl. I had about 30 minutes to kill before meeting with her, so I stopped in at a store just to peruse what's new in total cuteness. I had my left hand in the pocket of my pants, new pants I might add, and thought why does my pocket seem so wet? I didn't look but concluded it was due to the heat. I have this habit of holding my hands up close to me when I am shopping in a store where you don't want to brush up against anything and if they break it they cry, if I break it, I buy. Finally, I came across something that I wanted to look at closer and that is when I saw my hands. I looked like I had just killed or hurt somebody. "Officer I am only guilty of killing time!" And because I am sure people aren't too used to seeing someone shopping with bloody hands, I left the store quickly and went back to Sequisha to try and figure out why I was bleeding. There was the brief thought of stigmata since I had been at biblical training that morning, but let's face it, I'm not the type who would get a stigmata. I finally found the source of all the blood, a tiny, itty bitty, little cut on my thumb. It wasn't even this, -, big! And I hope you are not reading this before any meal, but I couldn't believe how much blood was flowing onto my hand. I grabbed a cloth and applied pressure to the cut. Then I found some Wet Ones and used those to control bleeding. Probably better to use than the rag I use to dust with inside the car. I look down and there is blood on my pants, lots of it coming from my pocket area and there are several huge stains on my shirt, semi new shirt. I decide to go on over to Cheryl's and get cleaned up in the bathroom. Now, how to enter the building without drawing attention to myself? God made a way because I didn't see anyone in the usually busy building. Cleaned up the best way possible and headed over to Cheryl's waiting room. Usually, there isn't anyone there and if there is it means that Cheryl accidentally double booked. A man came into the office and I leaned over as not to show my bloody self. He only came in and left something on her desk behind the glass partition. I did ask Cheryl if she had a band aid because my thumb was still bleeding without constant pressure on it. Out of luck, guess she only has "emotional band aids." Really, who wants to show up seeing their therapist with lots of blood on them? Makes for a less than dramatic answer when asked, "so how is everything with you?"
Finally later on in the evening it stopped bleeding. Since being on Pradaxa, I have cut myself and never had any problem with stopping the bleeding, so this was a first and I want it to be the only time this happens. In another humorous happening, I spilled tomato soup on me at the Black Walnut Cafe on Wednesday.
Well, I guess after all of this blood talk I will wait and write at a different time about what I am learning about facilitating a group. Man, we had some tough but fun role playing today. Let's just say I excelled more at disrupting than I did at setting boundaries and having the right response to the situation I was thrown into. Somehow I don't think this info surprises any of y'all who know me.