07 June 2006

1 rod, 2 plates, and 14 screws

14 screwsThere are all these fabulously romantic stories about how people have learned to knit - sitting at the knee of grandma one cold winter night - or being home one summer, stuck inside while it was raining, and mom sits them down and teaches them to knit while they bond just before the evil teenage years hit...

Yeah not me... I learned to knit while getting a blood transfusion.

Yeah that's right - you read correctly - blood transfusion - and I can tell you that it is not that easy to do. First of all, your arms are in a position that does not make the blood flow into the body all that easily. Secondly - there was a lot of morphine involved.

So now you're thinking...ummm, Mar...Can we get some back-story here? Blood transfusion? What are we missing? Okay then - short version - Was coming home from work at the Children's Theater and should have gone shoe shopping. Slightly longer short version - I was involved in a car accident almost ten years ago, almost lost left leg below knee, stuck in hospital for 3-4 weeks, then stuck in parents home (upstairs) for 4 months. They screwed my leg together again with one rod, 2 plates and 14 screws in left leg from knee to ankle - by some of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country! If you plan on getting hit by a car and almost losing a limb, I suggest doing it in Minneapolis - preferably in Burnsville.

So back to the knitting – My Auntie Betty, who knit this amazing shawl (see below) for my mom as well as a fabulous shawl for me - is one of the most amazing knitters in the world. She knits those Dale of Norway sweaters - and they are amazing - at least she doesn't knit socks – that leaves something that I can make for her. She drove up from Chicago and brought with her Vogue Knitting and tons of yarn and needles for me - Auntie Betty patiently taught me how to knit while I was drugged up on morphine and getting a blood transfusion. Should have know I was on a path of doom bliss as a desperate happy knitter - I mean, here I am getting somewhere between 2.5-3 liters of blood put back into me (body holds 5.6 liters) and I am knitting with worsted weight acrylic (red heart I am sure) and these long straight metal size 7's. I think the knitting needles were thinner than the one stuck in my arm. Of course, the nurse had to ruin my fun and forced me to put the needles away so the needle in my arm could do its job- I mean really! So that is basically how I learned to knit.

I spent the next few months knitting the same slipper over and over again. I was on something like 10 Vicodin a-day - excuses, I know. This kind of leads into what Brenda Dayne meant about "knitting memory.” Knitting for me, is incredibly relaxing; as if I was stoned out of my mind on morphine or Vicodin or whatever else they were giving me for the extreme amounts of pain I was in in a peaceful dream like state. I just go into la-la land when I start knitting. But I do the same with sewing....wonder what that memory is from? Ah – but that's a topic for another day.

auntie betty's scarf


tomato said...

Mar: Just a note to let you know how impressed I was by your description of this "event", just as I was impressed by how well you handled it when it happened. Interestingly enough, you were on so many drugs you probably don't remember playing the video "River Dance" for 24/7 for many many many weeks.... Love from The Mom

Marietta said...

gee mom, thanks for the reminder :)
for your information, river dance had nothing to do with how i learned to knit...just i how i learned to sleep with a full leg cast :)