The Mysterious ways of my knee Part II

A week ago I talked about what had happened to me on Friday, I didn't say anything about the six days that followed Friday.
Saturday I woke up to find my back-out curtain up. I guess I was lazy the night before. I lyed on my bed, procrastinating once again, for about twenty minutes. My aunt then came in and realized that I was awake. After seeing the golf ball that was once my knee, she told my mother to take me to the emergency room. After taking my time in the shower and all of my morning routine I was finally ready. The day before I had misplaced my iPod and I didn't find it before going to the emergency room. For some reason, I felt rather chatty on the car ride to the hospital. I wouldn't shut up and just kept on bothering my mom.
The emergency room is nothing like the things you see in Grey's Anatomy or any other T.V show. Mostly there was people coughing and looking awfully sick. I didn't mind but my mom on the other hand, made me walk to the other side of the hospital to get some coffee. Well she made me choose, stay here alone and maybe die of boredom or go "explore" the hospital with her, my aunt and her husband. My mom and aunt had worked in the hospital many years ago. But, me, the person who had only gone to the hospital once, knew exactly where the coffee shop was. When we got back to the E.R I was called in. I was excited because I naively thought that the knee doctor was already there. WRONG. After the nurses got some blood samples and almost made me faint and nauseated they took out a HUGE needle. They decided to give my a anti-inflammatory shot. YAY ME! After that shot, I couldn't use my bad knee leg and the other was so numb, I had to literally drag myself back to the seat.
An hour and a half later the doctor had the decency to call me but, with another persons name. After five minutes of calling me Laura something something, he saw me in the corner with a dead look on my face, came up to me and kindly asked " Are you the girl with the bad knee?" I limped my way happily back into the patient rooms and got examined.
Diagnoses: No one knew what had happened to my knee. Hypothesis: Viral infection ( yes you can somehow have a viral infection on your knee)
He put me on crutches for a whole week. A normal person would have grunted and made a bad face to the news. Not me! I had a big smile on my face going to get the crutches and hitting things with them. We came back home and my parents saw this as a great opportunity to go out to lunch without me! Using the excuse of me having to "rest" on doctors orders. Then the procrastination began. I went from my room, to the computer, to the room, to the computer about twenty times. I finally started to use the computer and invited a friend home. When she came we saw a movie. But, I somehow managed to go to the kitchen three times. I get bored easily. My mom decided to show some love to the neglected child and brought me cookies.

On Sunday I went to my grandparents house and moved around a lot.

Monday through Friday:
Got to school late, using crutches as excuse ( which they were). Muscles in my upper-body started to hurt. Muscles I didn't even know I had. People stole my crutches, its funner to use them when you don't have to.
By Wednesday I was able to go up the stairs walking but no, I wasn't allowed to do that.
Thursday I went to the doctor again and he said that Friday was my last day with crutches. I celebrated with a little dance that took place in my head. Friday I just used the crutches as accessories.

That was my week with crutches.

The Mysterious ways of my knee Part I.

I'm in crutches. Why? My knee got swollen. How? No one knows.

Friday, I got up at about 5:30 a.m and "watched" T.V for half an hour. Actually, I just stared at the screen distractedly for half an hour. At six I got up went to shower and got ready. By 6:45 my mom was at my door to start our regular routine. She entered the room, saw me getting ready or procrastinating and asked me, are you ready? I saw no and she leaves. Three minutes later she comes back in and asked the same question, usually while I'm brushing my teeth. I manage to say no and tell her that she is just making me take more time by answering that question. A year ago, she would have fought back or even looked at me, with a look saying "don't go there", but now she just leaves. At 6: 50 I managed to be ready and she took me to school. I got there at 7 a.m, just in time. I rushed to the locker rooms and changed for P.E. I then went to the soccer field with my friends. Everything was fine until I got to the field. Once we got to where our teacher was I felt a huge bubble under my right knee. I had no idea what that was but I told my teacher, just in case. Her answer was " Just run it off." I'm not sure if that made it better or worse. I didn't feel the bubble while running, but when I finished it came back. We started playing rugby. Once my teacher saw me limping around the field and was sure I was not faking, she made me go for ice. Smart, make the limping girl go around school for ice. After ten minutes of limping my way to the gym, the teacher there, told me there was no ice. Great! He made me a nurse pass and sent me. I knew there was no way I'd make to the nurse and back to the field in time for class to end so I went to the bookstore. I got a full cup of ice and limped my way back to the field. I stayed there, sitting with the ice cup on my leg.

My friends thought I was faking, just so to escape doing P.E. So on the way back to the locker room, I got the silent treatment. When they saw that I was struggling to put my normal pants on, they realized that I wasn't such a good actress. I then limped my way to English class and sat with the cup of ice still on my knee. Half way into the class, my teacher decided to make me move, I was 'talking' to much. From then on, I got up from my seat about ten times. I went for some towels, then decided to stretch my leg and then got called back to see my blog. After class, I had to limp across campus to my next class, math. Still with my, now half water, ice cup. I decided to ask my teacher to go to the nurse. It was closer to math than to English or the soccer field. Once I got to the nurse, she checked my knee and saw that it was swollen. So she put an anti-inflammation cream and some more ice. The high school vice-principal was there and asked me what had happened, while imitating my limp. I'm glad the school hired staff with a sense of humor.
I limped my way back to class, just in time for lunch. In lunch I sat down in a table with the thought of not moving. This of course did not happen. Throughout lunch, I got up and limped around the table, then limped to get some money for the bending machines, then limped to the bookstore, and then limped some more. By the end of lunch I was in the gym.
After lunch, I limped my way to science and on the way I was looked at with worried expressions. Science went normal. The only class in which I didn't stand up once.
I was going to my friends house after school. She goes on bus, which is on the other side of the campus. I had to run so I wouldn't miss the damn bus. But that isn't where I f-ed up my knee.
At my friends house, I went from one side to the other, Fernanda even gave me a piggy back ride. We went to blockbuster, which implied me to walk some more. No, this didn't make it worse, what made it worse was me having to fight for my phone. I had filmed one of my friends doing a funny dance, she was trying to erase it off my phone, she finally did. While running after her I felt a crack like sense in the knee bubble. Oopsie daisy, my bad! After that failed struggle, the bubble had grown. When my mom came for me, I struggled while walking to the car, I almost fell, twice.
When my mom saw me she asked what had happened. I had called her in lunch to tell her about it, thanks for listening mom. She gave me a scolding and went home. When I got into my PJ's, she checked it. Back in the days my mom was a nurse, once she had me she resist leaving this cute human being at home and "retired". When I saw my knee I laughed, it had morphed from a normal looking knee into a ball that was red. My mom got worried and called my aunt, who is a therapist. She would come in the morning to see it.
At the end of the day I had put five different packages of ice on my knee.

Summary:
What happened: My knee got swollen
How: No Idea

Tune in this week to see what happened in the hospital!

Cooking Pasta

Today started out like any Sunday would. One of my parents, in this case my dad, coming into my bedroom and waking me up. After about thirty minutes I was fully awake. The day before I had convinced my parents that I had to stay at home to do homework. Before my parents left my mom told me ten times to cook pasta for lunch. She was worried that I wouldn't eat anything for any of these to reasons: 1. Me being to lazy to cook something or 2. Me being to lazy to cook something. After they left I proceeded to waste the next three hours procrastinating. At around two I got bored, yes you can get bored while doing nothing, so I decided to start doing some work. As I made my way towards the computer I got side tracked. I was hungry. It was logical since I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, about four hours earlier. So I made my way towards the kitchen. I got the uncooked pasta out of the pantry and went to the stove. Since this would be the first time that I was cooking something, other than desserts, I called my mom. Once, twice, and I got mad. My mom had failed to answer one of the three calls that I had made. Fearing that I was going to burn down my whole apartment I called my dad who then passed me to my mother. She explained everything to me from taking the pasta out of the box to putting it on a plate. When I hung up on her I realized that it would have been a good idea to put attention. But I was sure I got the basics, I mean how hard could it be right?
Before even turning the stove on I got side tracked, once again. This time I was going to get the speakers so I would be entertained while cooking. After setting everything, I began the process of making, pasta. I took the most appealing Saute Pan I found and filled half of it with tap water. I turned on the stove and put the pan on it. I waited for it to begin boiling. When it began to boil I put the pasta in. I almost let the whole box of pasta into the water. I put the timer for twelve minutes. While I was waiting I began to discover the type of tools my mom had found necessary to buy. There was a little Saute Pan shaped timer (that I used), there where ten similar but different spoons that where used to take out pasta or sauce, there where spatulas, brushes, etc. I took out three different spoons that looked like pasta spoons. When ten minutes had past I decided to see if the pasta was soft enough to take out. While doing this I burned my pointer finger five times in less than a minute. Then I accomplished to burn my already burned tongue eating the pasta. Now THAT takes talent. I left it to boil a couple minutes more and took it out of the stove. Not remembering what to do next I began my calling again. I ended up calling my dad four times today just so I could talk to my mom. I took the pasta and water out of the pan and put them in a Collinder. A Collinder is a pan with wholes at the bottom of it. I drained the pasta and put it in a pan. I put some milk, to add some moisture to it, and a pre-made Carbonara sauce. After the sauce melted and combined with the pasta I took it out. As I started eating it I noticed that it was still cold. Why? The sauce and milk had yet to be heated in the pan. But, after putting the plate into the microwave it heated up and once again burnt my tongue. In the end, the pasta turned up tasting fine and I didn't burn the apartment down, though some gas leaked from the stove making me open all the windows near by.
Down Side of this: I wasted another hour doing the pasta.
Up Side: I now know how to do pasta that isn't made in a minute. More than what my brothers, who are in college, know how to do.

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Community Service

This year, my Personal Development and Relations (PDR), teacher gave us 20 hours of Community Service as our final exam. So for the past few weeks I've been going on Mondays to teach some little kids English with Santiago, Fernanda and Agus. Our conversations on the car ride to the school usually start with Agustina announcing that shes going to sleep and to wake her before getting there. Then some weird topic comes up and Agustina doesnt go to sleep, while I have to sit in the back seat of the car with Santiago. The car has two front seats, three seats in the middle, (where the back of a usual car would be )and two seats the back, which usually takes up some space of the trunk. While Agustina and Fernanda are in the middle they leave me stuck in the back with Santiago and all of his weirdness. I entertain myself by bothering Santiago, which always ends with him yelling at me. In the end Agustina doesn't fall asleep and tells us that next time she will.
But, this past Monday was different. Since we had to go in a different car, a smaller car, the seating was arranged in the following way. Santiago in the passenger seat and Fernanda, Agustina, Agustinas' mom and me in the back seat. The car ride went as always until Fernanda looked out the window and yelled out " Que asco!" which ruffly translates to "YUCK!". This obviously made everyone stop talking and look out of the window. Unfortunately for me there was a bus blocking my view. When she knew no one had realized what she was talking about she told us that she had just seen a man pooping on the street. This made everyone in the car say the same as she had few moments before.
From then on everything else that happened wasn't as exciting. We got to the school, waited for the kids for about half an hour. We taught them colors in English and then played some games with them. Its safe to say that it was a fun car ride.

The best text message ever made

Hello,
My name is Camila Nieto and I'm a candyholic. My 30 days program told me to send this text message to my dearest best friend to whom I haven't talked to in hmmm who knows how long! Also since I have no messages to movistar and this is going to cost my parent, to whom I'm mad at this instant, I will send it. When they kill me I allow you to publish on facebook that I'm dead
Love,
Camila

From: Me, Camila Nieto
To: Sophia N.

Reason it was made: I was being neglected by my parents while they where playing their favorite sport, Golf.
This is what you get when I have you on my contact list and I'm bored out of my mind

Harrasment

My friend Fernanda tried to open a hole in my hand. Why? For telling her that there was a hole in the back of her pants, right where your butt is. She went to the bathroom to check if it was true. When she saw that there was no hole she came back to the computer lab and proceeded to harass me. I wouldn't stop talking so she aggressively told me to shut up. I hate when people tell me that so I responded by telling her to make me shut up. Fernanda, being the aggressive person she is, tried to cover my mouth I then pushed my thumb nail into the back of her hand. When she did the same to me I pressed my nail harder. This is when she told me that she was going to make a hole in my hand. I pressed my nail harder into her skin and she then back off. My hand is hurting like hell right now and there is a scab where she attempted to open my hand. Now she is seeing the rank of tennis players in the world while trying to find a blog to follow.

Yesterday after posting my Spring Break post my friend, Santiago, posted a new post. Like always he asked me to see the post, just to get more views on his page. When I entered his blog I realized my name was in the title. When I read the blog I realized that he was talking about what we did in lunch. We attempted to sing Diane Warwick songs.
I was surprised that he had mentioned me in his blog since all he ever seems to mention about in his blog is Fernanda or Sophia. So when I said I was so happy that I had made it in his blog (sarcastically) he thought that I was jumping up and down and going to my roof to yell out to the whole world that I was in his blog. He wrote in his blog that I was crying because I had been mentioned in his blog. Just to get it clear, I couldn't care less if he did or didn't write about me in his blog.