Compartment 14B
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In which I learn the term, �Hulemaka flip�. 2005-01-28 - 2:29 p.m. I will always carry a little bit of Hawaii with me. Literally. At least until I either go to a doctor to get it removed or gouge it out myself. On one of our last days on the Big Island, my legendary clumsiness manifested itself in a spectacular fashion. J and I were pulling up to one of many �scenic� lookouts and decided to stop to take a picture. Since my door was blocked by shrubbery at the edge of the narrow turnoff, J grabbed the camera and headed across the road. Feeling a pang of guilt at making him do the photographing and not wanting to miss the view myself (it certainly wasn�t my bossy nature that wanted to dictate how the shot was to be taken, no, no, no), I scooted across the seat and hopped out of the van after him. I didn�t hurry exactly, I certainly didn�t run, yet I must have gained some momentum because when my sandal caught on the lip of a previously unforeseen lip of asphalt, my fall was absolutely spectacular. I do know that I registered the fact that there was broken glass strewn on the ground in front of me so perhaps I instinctively threw myself forward in an extra effort to regain my balance or at least hurdle the hazard. I went down. Hard. And with enough forward motion that I rolled. In fact, I barreled into the backs of the knees of an unsuspecting tourist admiring the view. I was dirty and I was scraped, though dirty enough to not know whether I was scraped extensively or not. The blood welling up on my elbow was enough to tell me I had at least one bad scrape. The dirt was a fine, powdery silt that coated wherever I�d touched ground. J spread a towel on the seat so I wouldn�t get a lot of dirt or blood on it and we made our way back up the road about a mile to a botanical garden we�d passed. They were incredibly nice and grabbed their first aid kit and hustled me into the back room. When it became obvious that I could tend to myself they brought J in to keep me company (he�d been parking the van) and left me with the kit and a sink to clean up and administer what I wanted. Liberal swabbings of paper towel took the patches of dirt off me, though it took a few revolutions for J to spot them all. I washed my elbow then sprayed it with Bactine then poured hydrogen peroxide over it, spread Polysporin on it, and taped a large patch of gauze over it. I wasn�t able to get all the dirt out � the fine brown smudge of ingrained silt wouldn�t wash off, nor could I take out a couple of dark lumps under the skin. My friends, did I touch ground! When all was said and done, and I�d cleaned up and changed, I�d managed to get dirt on both elbows, both legs, hands, back, and butt. When I say �butt� I mean not just on my shorts � I had dirt IN MY UNDERWEAR! My trajectory scooped dirt into the top of my shorts where it had apparently sifted downwards� I told the guy who�d given me the first aid kit and he covered his face to hide his laughter and said, �Girl, you got yourself good! You did what we call around here a �hulemaka flip*�!� I�ve changed the dressing on my elbow a couple of times since and I think that most of the fine stuff has come out. Unfortunately, there are still a couple of conspicuous lumps of crud under my skin. The question is now, do I wait to heal and then dig them out when the area is less tender? Or do I try to get them out now? And do I do it myself with an Exacto blade and tweezers or do I go to the doctor? Anyone got an answer? I don�t think it�s infected but there is some definite fluid still oozing out under the Tegaderm I�ve put on. Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco, I took part of my vacation spot home. ----------------------------------- For the record, I can�t find this term online so I�m not sure I�ve got the spelling right. Sounds good though, don�t it? Much more interesting than, �I fell down and went bang.�
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