A new day, a new trauma.

I knew today was going to be stressful. I went to take care of some loose ends regarding my sudden termination. 

But don't you worry, guys, I got up, got dressed, and made myself presentable. Hyped myself up and left my house. 

And I think by this point you know nothing in my life goes quite as planned. As I'm out running my errand, I get a call from my grandpa. He's scared and telling me that he cut himself badly and he's bleeding A LOT. I look down at my gps I'm 50 minutes from the house. I call my aunt; she rushes there and takes him to the hospital. 

obvi at this point I'm headed to the ER.

The update from my auntie: she did a tourniquet (really well; she's now on my apocalypse team. Congrats on the promotion MiMi.) He's at the hospital and has to receive five stitches because he nicked an artery in his arm. 

By the time I get back to town, they're already finishing up my grandpa's ER visit. So, I head home to clean up the blood in the house before he returns. 

The kitchen was covered in blood; it was pretty scary realizing he was all alone as I pushed deeper into the house, knowing the scene had begun in the bathroom. His tools sprawled about the bathroom, just like normal; he always gets wrapped up in a home renovation project. But this time blood covers the space between tools. 

The tub. 

That's where it started, his scraper on the floor. His watch on the vanity, a trail of blood dripping off of it into the sink and on to the bathroom floor. The trail of blood showing every step he took. Stumbling through the house, making his way to the first aid kit. 

The towels that normally hang from the oven are now crumbled up in a bloody pile on the kitchen island. The first aid kit's contents were scattered throughout the kitchen.

Playing back his voice in the car, "Can you hear me? You there? I-- I uh cut myself, it's really bad--uh there's a lot of blood everywhere." 

I know he's fine now, laughing even. I mean, the moment he got home, he was telling my aunt to finish the task he left off. He walked into me cleaning the bathroom 

"I leave you alone for five minutes, what the heck." 

"I'm telling you, babe." 

But I'm washing the blood out of your apple watch band and know you were so mad trying to figure out how to take if how to stop the bleeding. I've washed my hands three times, but I can still smell the blood. 

But you're okay. I can hear you in the bathroom now, working. You're so stubborn, I guess that's where I get it. This morning you were telling how proud you were that I stood up for myself and that I was your girl. 

You're damn right, I'm your girl.