Things I Have Done that No One Else Has Done. This is the current meme going around, thanks to John Scalzi.

However, because this is me, I’m going to change it just a tad: Things that have happened to me that never happen to other people.

It’s going to be a series of anecdotes. Here’s the start:

Anecdote 1

When I was working at NIOSH, a friend had an extra ticket to the football game, and because I like going to football games, I went with him.

Unfortunately for me, as the weather was cool, I didn’t think to either wear at hat or put on sunscreen, so I got a nasty sunburn–but only on the left side of my face. Not only did it turn bright red, but it swelled up and got puffy and everything. All week my co-workers kept asking me, “what happened?” and “are you feeling okay?” I was pretty much the talk of the lab for the entire week.

Fast forward several months later. I am walking to the lab one morning with my friend Susan, and fretting about how self-conscious I am about a pimple that has appeared.

“It’s not that bad,” said Susan. “It’s hardly noticable!”

Suddenly, from way down the hall, Song Bi asks, “Michelle! What happened to your face? Did you get sunburned again?”

Anecdote 2

I got along extremely well with my co-workers at NIOSH. And because they felt comfortable around me, they all asked me to help them with their English–to correct them when they said something wrong, etc. I was also asked about the words they didn’t know but were pretty sure weren’t “good” words. So I would also get asked things like, “what is ‘prostitute’?” (I am so lucky someone didn’t come in on that conversation.)

This was usually a lot of fun for me and for them, because in addition to explaining the word, I’d inevitably have a story or even the history of the word to share. It was, however, at other times, a somewhat painful experience.

I had to help one researcher tag mice and clean their cages, (as I was very bothered by this, he sacrificed them when I wasn’t around) so we would be stuck in a small, sterile room in animal quarters for a couple of hours. And inevitably, to practice his English, he would relate the entire plot of the last movie he had watched. And not just any movie, but the made-for-TV movie he had watched.

Let me tell you, if you think the plots of those things are bad when you’re watching them, try figuring out the plot when it’s been sieved through the brain of a man who isn’t a fluent English speaker.

Here is a sample of one part of one conversation.

Gu: So, she was having relationship with son of her best friend. The high school son. Much younger than her. Is this normal?
Me: No! Not normal!

Anecdote 3

After donating blood earlier in the day, I passed out in the freight elevator at NIOSH. But not only did I pass out, but I managed to smack my forehead on something, and also had some sort a muscle spasm (you know, the kind that sometimes jerk you awake when you’re falling asleep).

I wake up and one friend is calling my name in a panic, while the other is pressing on my forehead to try and stem the bleeding of the nasty cut I managed to give myself. Upon gaining some coherence, I felt embarrassed at making a scene, but other than the blood in my eyes I felt ok. However, by this time there are now LOTS of people in and around the elevator, and because of the way I fell, and because I hit my head (twice actually: once on a corner and once on the floor) and because of the muscle spasm, they refused to allow me to move, and called an ambulance.

So I get put in a neck brace, placed on a back board, placed in the ambulance, and driven to the emergency room that is, quite literally, RIGHT NEXT DOOR. However, as there are multiple speed bumps on the direct route between NIOSH and the emergency room, they actually had to take me around the block. Which was silly, but I did appreciate as I was strapped to a backboard. (My husband actually managed to walk to the emergency room faster than I got there in the ambulance.)

At the hospital, I get an MRI and a CAT scan. in the meantime, not only has my husband been called, but he’s called my parents. So in the room with me are my husband, one of my friends from NIOSH, my mother, my father, my boss, and the safety officer. Of course my family has realized that aside from the bleeding, there’s nothing wrong with me, so they then completely and totally make fun of me. Because that’s what my family does in stressful situations. So I’m laughing. And everyone else is laughing, including the doctors and nurses who wandered in and out giving me tests and poking and prodding.

In the end I got 12 stitches, a black eye, and the next day off from work because I couldn’t get the stitches wet for 24 hours, and my hair was matted with blood. (Photographic evidence here)

Additionally, I ended up being mentioned (unnamed) during the future blood borne pathogen training sessions, since the elevator had to be shut down for several hours while a biohazard team cleaned up all the blood, and gloves and bandages were added to all first aid kids throughout the building, along with gauze pads, so no one would again have to try to stem bleeding with their bare hands or a pile of industrial paper towels.