Staples in my Head

Tuesday was like any normal day…except that I ended up with staples in my head.

At lunch, I went to visit my doggie BFF. Our routine is a quick walk (In spite of being a greyhound, he’d have it no other way.), followed by some couch time, and then back in his crate with an afternoon treat.

At the end of my couch time I got up to get his treat, knelt to give him kisses on his head (which I always do) and was met with barking and two bites to the top of my head.

I cleaned up, tried to stop the bleeding, and called E to tell him I was ok. I asked him where the nearest urgent care facility was. He offered to come get me, but I was fine, I was sure. I just wanted a professional opinion of what I couldn’t really see among my hair.

Four staples. Yep. And, having had stitches several times, I’ll take staples any day! I’ll especially take them if I can request the same Novocain-without-epinephrin numbing agent that the kind Dr. Saeed gave me!

Every couple of days, the wound hurts and every other couple of days I have to go in for a checkup. I get the staples out on Tuesday, supposedly.

I nick-named myself The Borg. E has been much more creative: Metal Head, Frankenstein, Staple Head, Broken, Iron Head, etc.

.

.

.

squick alert for the picture of the staples

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

staples in my head

staples in my head

2 thoughts on “Staples in my Head

  1. I’m so glad you’re okay!

    I don’t understand the doggie BFF concept. Where does he live? Why did he attack you?

    There is something so funny about you having staples in your head. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I must be emotionally stunted. Again, I’m glad you’re okay.

    • He used to live here in our building. When he was newly adopted, he’d cry. I left a note on our neighbors door saying I was home a lot of days if he ever needed me to give him a break. We became friends and I dog-sit (usually a quick lunch break) at times because my friend works a desk where the staff have to maintain coverage for long hours six days a week. When they moved, my friend made sure I got a key to the new place and I check on him a time or two a month.

      I don’t know why he attacked me. There was a storm moving in (but no thunder), his break was a little shorter than usual, I moved to quickly, I did something that reminded him of his racing days, I smelled too much like the cats (though he’s never given them a second glance…), etc. It could have been anything. He’s having another date with the trainer to see if they can decipher it.

      After I get the staples out, we are going to meet again–me, friend, dog–and see how things go. I hope I don’t have to give up my friendship with the dog over something I clearly did. I just wish I knew what set him off. 🙁

      Yes, staples in my head is funny….thus all the nicknames. I think Frankenstein has been my favorite. I wonder if I can go through an xray?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *