Archives of Our Lives

{a narrow and broad look into the lives of people I love}

Friday, March 21, 2008

{Great Many Sufferings}

*Preface: Inasmuch as Poor Kyle and I are married (i.e. legally lawfully husband and wife), we have, on occasion, been known to take our morning showers together. Might I add that this is not so much a sexual ritual, as it is economical. In fact, it's neither comfortable nor relaxing--as showers should be--because Poor Kyle likes his water warm, whereas I prefer mine nigh upon scalding. Also, this house's water pressure is moderate to poor, so there's really not even enough to go around. Only one of us can stand in the stream at any given time. Alas...such are the sacrifices we make to save the planet's dwindling fresh water reserves...

*Face: Sunday morning. Our church services begin at 11:00 a.m., so this would have been around 10. In the shower (which is a bathtub/shower combination) fully clothed (just trying to keep this G-rated). I was the lucky one under the spray of water. With my back to the faucet, I crouched down to scrub in between my toes. While there, I went ahead and scrubbed Poor Kyle's toes too (all in the name of efficiency, you see).

Upon returning to my full upright and standing position, I managed to catch my lower back on the bathtub's protruding faucet. Hard. Letting out a yelp of pain (okay, I screamed, and I might have even cursed), I swung my face around to see what sort of damage I'd done (to my body, not the !&#@^* faucet). It was bad. I couldn't see it very well, on account of not having a neck that rotates 180 degrees like that of an owl, but I saw red. I knew instantly that I'd drawn blood, and though the wound wasn't in an easy-to-diagnose location, I was sure there was a massive chunk of flesh--my flesh--careening through the sewage system beneath our house.

Meanwhile, Poor Kyle was asking, "Are you okay?" over and over, with no solid response from me. I couldn't answer questions, you see, because there was blood. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Coming out of my body. Washing down the drain. I started to feel very dizzy, and told him so. How did Poor Kyle respond? He laughed. He didn't believe me, even though he knows how I handle blood [poorly].

No matter. I passed out anyway, to the sound of my husband's giggles, and when I came to, I was nearly on the floor of the tub, in the arms of my now-anxious Poor Kyle. The water was still streaming out of the shower head, and I was very disoriented, you see, because imagine how strange it would be to wake from a seemingly days-long slumber, naked--er...fully clothed--in the running shower. It was disorienting indeed. When finally I realised I'd fainted, I wanted nothing more than to remove myself from the scene of the crime. But Poor Kyle seemed to think it would be more effective for me to rinse the conditioner from my hair and then exit the shower.

Having done so, and growing tired of Poor Kyle's recount--amidst peals of laughter--of my pass-outage, I shakily announced I was getting out. Poor Kyle escorted me from the shower to the bedroom, where finally it hit me: I was bleeding from my back, I'd passed out like a wuss, Poor Kyle had to catch me, and he was laughing about it still, five minutes later.

I must have looked like an idiot. So to make it better, I started to cry. As if I really thought that would help.

It didn't.

"Stop laughing at me!" I whined through my crumpled face and streaming tears. "Stop it!" This was bad. I knew I'd looked foolish when I passed out, because Poor Kyle had reenacted the scene, and really: I looked foolish. But to be crying on top of that...I was so embarrassed of myself, that all I could do was cry harder.

My pleas fell on deaf ears, because, of course, I must have really looked a sight.

After ensuring that I was secure and safe, Poor Kyle meandered back down the hallway to finish his shower. Meanwhile I, having endured more than any person should have to suffer on a Sunday morning, put on my underwear and crawled mournfully back into bed...

...where I stayed for three minutes until Poor Kyle finished his shower and apologised (still giggling) for laughing at me in my time of travail.

I only forgave him because he'd shaved his face for me [actually he'd shaved his face because it was the Sabbath, but he told me it was for me].

*Post face: Upon recounting the sordid tale to Poor Kyle's parents, my father-in-law said curiously, "Camille, I know a lot of people who pass out at the sight of blood, but you're the only person I've ever met who passes out at the thought of the sight of blood."

Yes. That's my claim to fame.

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Anonymous Anonymous said...

thank you again my dear for a delightful post. i'll have this smile on my face for hours, thinking of the whole affair. st has a very subtle humour sense, n'est-ce pas?

wonderful tale.

(don't visit the hutterites, i hear they "process" chickens there...eeww.)

my own blood, which i try desperately not to see, makes me that way. weird stuff.

March 21, 2008 at 7:55 AM  
Blogger Kristy said...

I would have been the same way as Kyle, very funny. I am scared for you if you ever have children and have a blood phobia. Maybe you could ask them to put a big sheet up in front of your face like they do with a caesarean.

March 21, 2008 at 8:40 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh poor Sister Fairbanks!!! I KNOW what it feels like to have those around you laugh while you are bawling your eyes out. (My family does it all the time.) Know that I feel your pain and that you are a wonderful person!!

March 21, 2008 at 10:38 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

gall darn families. thank heaven for them.

camille, i hope your readers listen to your music, with thought and consideration. i've learned so much about you from the music you choose..i hear lyrics in my head thankfully, speaking to me..soothes my savage beast.
i've been humming, it is love, hellogoodbye, all week at work, lovely song, i like your taste for the strings.was listening to vivaldi last night, such beautiful music, and, under pressure...very me too.i saw queen do it, what a beautiful lyric,love dares us to change how we care about ourselves. i'm glad others are still singing that one.

March 21, 2008 at 1:57 PM  
Blogger Jami said...

two things came to my mind while reading this post. The first was that me and spencer have the same problem when we shower together. I like my water HOT HOT HOTT! and spencer likes luke warm water. yes, it is hard...
the other was when we were seniors and in student counsel together, you got the scab on your arm scratched off (I don't know how)...anyways, it was bleeding really bad. BUT the worst part was that it was clotting on your arm...yes it was gross. anyways, you came back into the room, and showed me..I of course got really excited (things like that make me excited), and asked if I could clean it up, and be "nurse jami". You said yes...and so I proceeded. You then got shaky..and kami reynolds, had to have you put your head inbetween your knees. I have always remembered that!

March 21, 2008 at 5:09 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


Mom, Dad, Pres, and I all sat around reading this together. Inasmuch as we rarely discuss anything involving nudity, it and awkward at best. Perhaps your preface should have included a naked disclaimer as well. :) Anyway, I am very, very, VERY sorry for your pain. I can say that I truly understand in all sincerity. One time when my friend Roz found out she had cancer she was telling me all the details about her surgeries, etc., and I started to hear ringing in my ears and just about fainted. It must be a Leavitt thing. Grandma claims Mom used to be the same way...

Love ya!

March 21, 2008 at 9:18 PM  
Blogger Geevz said...

I honestly and truly laughed out loud so hard that John asked from the other room what I was laughing about. I too fainted once after getting out of the bathtub too fast. Nothing like waking up after passing out naked. Now you know what many drunk college students have experienced.

p.s. I am also sorry for your ordeal but very happy you shared it

March 21, 2008 at 10:54 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

silly silly. i don't blame kyle for laughing, but i'm sorry for your pain!

March 21, 2008 at 10:55 PM  
Blogger Alicia said...

Hello Camille! You don't know me, but I posted once before, briefly, on your 100th post. Anyway, I check your blog often and CRACKED UP at this story! You're hilarious! My husband's still wondering why I'm laughing. Anyway, thanks for the entertaining story, and I'm sorry for your pain, but grateful for your willingness to share. :)

March 22, 2008 at 12:45 AM  
Blogger RPH said...

Andy and I shower together too, purely because it is economical....


March 22, 2008 at 8:10 PM  
Blogger Cristin said...

I really think it's only unmarried people that are like, "WHOA, TMI, you shower together!?" Married people are like, "yeah. economical. what's the big whoop?"

March 22, 2008 at 11:41 PM  
Blogger Whitney said...

Oh Camille I am the same way! You are not alone.This story is so something I would have done.

March 23, 2008 at 7:22 PM  
Blogger shan7 said...

Camille, I love my showers super hot too, that's why I have to have them first at this house because Mike takes 20 min and Maddy she'll just stand in there until it gets cold!!!!

March 23, 2008 at 10:03 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Absolutely loved your story and I just about died laughing! Not only cause it was well told, but because I just had a somewhat similar experience while taking a shower with my husband. He had recently had a pre-cancerous mole removed from his shoulder and when he got in the shower with me, I was like - "show it to me, I can handle it". So he does, the room starts spinning and the next thing I know, I'm croching down to put my face on the floor of the tub to keep from passing out. Then I start yelling at him to turn around and make it go away!

March 24, 2008 at 12:51 PM  
Blogger lindsay said...

camille, you are not alone.
i too have drawn blood in the shower. ALtho, it wasnt mine. It was jared's. And it was his own fault for trying to get into MY shower after only being married a day! I definitely threw a good punch that morning and remember him not being happy with his bloody nose.

March 26, 2008 at 11:45 AM  
Blogger lindsay said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

March 26, 2008 at 11:45 AM  

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