>> Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Yep. It’s what you think.
I went for a nice 5 mile run yesterday afternoon, between teaching classes at CVA and the U. All was well. I was running just slower than 7 minute miles, contemplating doing a half marathon in late January. It was a cool 20 degree afternoon, and I had turned back into the slight breeze. I was about a mile and a half from home when “something” started to feel “weird.” Here’s where the lovely run turns south.
“I think the tip of my bishop is frozen,” I thought. I didn’t know what to do. So I just kept running. I didn’t have far to go.
As the minutes wore on, I realized it was getting more and more numb. I was starting to freak a little. I’ve seen photos of what bad frostbite does to fingers. I did NOT want any of that for my John Dillinger.
I was only wearing thin “swishy” pants with boxers underneath. My legs were plenty warm. But my wombat was freezing his one eye off. I did all I could to get home ASAP.
I got through the door and dropped trou immediately. My third leg didn’t look too swell. It was all small and red. Bright red. Not a natural color. I held him in my hand as I called Pharmie’s cell. As the phone was ringing, the sensation was starting to come back. It was JUST like when you lose feeling in your fingers, but in this case, that raw and burning feeling was down there!
I told Phamie what was going on. What did my loving wife do? She started laughing: “Oh, this isn’t supposed to be funny, but I can’t keep from laughing!” It WAS funny - to everyone in the world except me. Thanks Hun. I was coddling it in my hands. It was numb clear down to the base. I was whimpering. I was just like a little boy who found his little pet mouse dead, and was carrying it around as he was crying. Wait, I suppose I shouldn’t have referred to it as a “little mouse.” Oh well.
For about 10 minutes, I was not a happy camper. It was like holding an ice cube in my hand. I didn’t know what to do: “Do I run it under hot water? Do I take a bath? Do I cut it off while it’s still numb and save myself years of expensive and painful tallywacker rehab?” I was lost. I was, well, like a boy without his pixie stick. Literally.
When that hot, burning, regaining-feeling sensation had passed, I took a shower. After the shower, my little buddy had a red ring around him. It looked like an STD. I got an STD from that whore, Mother Nature. She got it from Father Time, who probably got it from that weekend he spent with Lindsey Lohan.
Now, all is better. About 2 hours after the run, my kielbasa was back to normal. The redness is gone. The weird STD-looking rash is gone. Function has returned. In case your wondering, I did NOT take any photos of my banana when it was red and frozen. I think that would have been a little too much. Even for me.
This has taught me 2 things:
1. Keep the lightsaber insulated.
2. My “line” lies somewhere between putting images of my chest after my cats have licked me all over on the web, and NOT putting images of my frostbitten Pink Floyd on the web.
I can assure you that all of this is true. It is by no means a stunt to get your vote. The details have not been exaggerated. This is a factual recollection of nearly freezing off my beef-bus. Use this new knowledge, and never NEVER let this happen to you.
p.s. In case you haven’t been keeping track, these are my favorite penis euphemisms: bishop, John Dillinger, wombat, third leg, little mouse, tallywacker, pixie stick, little buddy, kielbassa, banana, lightsaber, Pink Floyd, beef-bus.