It’s 3AM and I’m wide awake. The culprit this time is a persistent nose bleed. Not mine, my son’s.



I was looking through a very old file of paperwork from my youth. In it was copies of my birth certificate and numerous pediatrician reports.

I was born in Thailand and came to the United States when I was around three and-a-half or four. Thai was my first and only language.

The pediatrician noted at first my almost complete lack of english but was pleased to report six months later that I was now fluent. And he noted my extreme nose bleeds. I was plagued with them as a child.

I recall panicking if I left the house without my pockets bulging with toilet paper. A nose bleed was an inevitability. My nose has been cauterized a few times and I tried everything, fortunately I finally grew out of it when I hit adolescence.

I can still taste the blood in my throat, burning from hours of a steady, salty drip. I’ve spent many a night hunched over the toilet and bleeding from my nose into it. Ugh.

Poor Scratchy, I wish he didn’t have to deal with this but at least I am equipped with the constitutional fortitude to help him. He sprung a particularly bad leak one summer while on our way to camp. We stopped to pick up a kid and I took him inside to get fresh tissues and wash his face. The kid’s father blanched at all the blood.


Mugging with Big Dog, without a nosebleed

“Are you sure he’s okay? I’d be at the ER.”

I’ve been to the ER for nosebleeds (perhaps my earliest memories of childhood), it’s less traumatizing to ride them out at home.

In any case, Scratchy’s bleeding stopped thanks to an icepack on the back of his neck, compression and time, the humidifier working away in his room. Then That Fucking Cat came prancing into the room all mighty hunter with a dead mouse in her jaws.

That is, a dead mouse in a mousetrap which is the only way she is capable of catching mice. I had to get it away from her and dispose of it which meant that going back to sleep was pretty much out of the question for a while. I often take this opportunity to go downstairs and commune with Blue in the living room while watching Nurse Jackie. But why not write?

Yesterday was a snow day. I pretty much spent the entire day with My Parasitic Twin. She’s delighted that my 31 day no-alcohol challenge has come to an end. #noquitter

Ever the considerate dog owner, I took the guys out for a walk despite the bitter cold. Little Dog doesn’t like getting his squirrel feet all cold and wet so he rides in the baby carrier after he does his business. Very hard work for him.

He’s such a drama queen. Even though he has two sweaters on and is in a baby carrier, under my coat and next to my body, he still likes to make a big show of shivering pathetically. That is until he passes out from overheating.


Blue and Little Dog: misery loves company

Now it’s 4:30. Still not sleepy. Fuck.

4 thoughts on “Nosebleeds

  1. The little one is so adorable! I am more akin to Blue so would always prefer the big brute, but the little one is so much like one of those precious what’nots a dotty aunt would have lovingly displayed on a shelf. Um, not calling you dotty or anything like that. Stay warm!

  2. I can vouch for said nosebleeds. And the abundance of tissue. Sorry to hear that Scratchy has picked it up. Damn those genetics. At least he has you to help him see it through!

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