How blue can one get? Apparently pretty darn blue! I was at our cabin in La Grange the evening my father fell and broke his hip. I really only intended to be there for the weekend, so all I had with me was one change of clothes. Trust me, this gives a whole new meaning to "wash and wear."
So I went to Wal-Mart (the only game in town) and searched for a few items to tide me over. Among other things I bought a really good-looking pair of black knit crop pants. You know the kind--made from that thick but clingy swimsuit kind of knit. They actually looked pretty darn good on me! I was jazzed!
Okay, so I've got my dad in the hospital awaiting his surgery and my mother, who suffers from Alzheimer's Disease at the house. I decide that this is the best and most logical time for me to make the frantic drive from La Grange back home to Elgin to gather up enough "stuff" to last me the rest of the week. Elgin is about 65 miles away and oh is it hot! I think it was about 103F that day. The plan was to get over there, load up stuff and get back to La Grange in time to get my mother over to the hospital about the time my father was out of surgery. Three hour round-trip drive and a four hour surgery...yeah, sure! I can make this work!
Upon arriving home I quickly as possible loaded stuff into the car while trying my best to make it all fit in such a way that I could still get my mother in the front seat and have her wheelchair in the trunk so I wouldn't have to unload things before taking her over to the hospital to see Dad. Didn't take long to get really hot, and really sweaty.
With just enough time to pull this thing off, I made my trip to the bathroom, kissed the kitties, grabbed a diet coke, and headed back without any further ado.
It was a very long day and at the end of it I was ready to just collapse. I was so tired that all I did was take off my clothes, put on my nightgown and go to bed without any further ceremony.
The next morning however, something was wrong. I got into the bathroom and realized as I got ready for my shower that I was wearing blue underwear. I didn't remember having blue underwear! Whatever. But then I take off my nightgown. It's supposed to be white with green and purple frogs, but instead it's light blue with green and purple frogs. Something isn't right! So I go over to the mirror and to my horror the image reflecting back at me from the waist to the knees looks like a giant, overweight smurf. I'm blue! Oh, so blue! Then I look down at my hands--they're blue! I stare over at the commode seat--it's blue!
I did manage to scrub the blue off my skin. Well, pretty much anyway. I couldn't get it all out from underneath my fingernails and around my knuckles.
So I took my mother to the hospital to see Dad. Unfortunately he had a very bad reaction to the combination of pain meds he'd been on the two days prior to the surgery and the anesthesia. He was totally convinced the heart monitor was a coffee maker and he was going to get it and see how it worked or die trying--which was almost the result.
During this time he was holding on to my hand--or maybe it was me holding on to his hand--doesn't matter. Suddenly the aide who had been assigned to sit with him and make sure he didn't hurt himself gasped and cried out, "Oh my gosh, here, let me help you!"
"He's cutting off your circulation! Your fingers are turning blue!"
No, he wasn't cutting off my circulation although yes my fingers were blue. So I had to go through the saga of how blue I was, and why. How embarassing, even if the aide was terribly relieved. Jeez!
That night I called home and told my husband all about being turned into a giant smurf. His response was "Well, at least I know how your commode seat got turned blue." Groan. Is there anything I've touched that isn't blue?
Apparently, what happened was when I got all hot and sweaty the dye from the knit pants bled onto my underwear and body, and when I used the toilet both at home and at my parents, the blue got transferred from me to the commode seat.
Three weeks later and both commode seats are still blue. A cup of vinegar in the wash water has set the color of the pants and they haven't bled any further. The blue is out from under my fingernails and knuckles. But even bleach hasn't gotten the blue out of my panties or my nightgown. Apparently they will stay blue as a constant reminder of my brief transformation into smurfdom. Oh well!