Note to self: Wear helmet while tending to hens.

Talk about a case of the Mondays...just before I was about to leave for the gym, I realized that the chickens were clucking away, wondering why they were not un-jailed at their usual 7am wake-up time. I opened the door, filled the feeder and rinsed and refilled the waterer. In a hurry, I swung around to make my way to the side of the coop and out of the yard but was stopped short when my forehead became one with the corrugated steel roofing. Some choice words flew, I closed the gate so the chickens wouldn't fly and I headed towards my car. "Man, that hurt," I thought as I put my hand to my forehead....DOOM...my hand was covered in blood. Inside, looking into the bathroom mirror was surreal and I realized what a good job Johnny Brach's suppliers do when they make those glue-on wounds. It was identical to a rubbery-plastic-type costume I had adhered to my face just a year or two ago. Although this one was making me significantly more nauseated.
Thankfully, I had my workout towel in hand which turned into a coagulator on the oh-so-smooth gash in my forehead. Driving myself to the emergency room, I wondered, "Is this karma? No... no I just volunteered for a week! Not Karma...a lesson for rushing and constantly speeding on 55? Possibly" I contemplated other reasons for the demise of my previously unwrinkled forehead (now adorned with a definite dent) in order to distract myself from the gush which did slow to a trickle as I sat in traffic.
Upon arrival, I requested a plastic surgeon, Tylenol for the headache, Zofran for nausea and gauze with normal saline but the nurses there want you to see a doctor before you're treated (or self-medicated) for some silly reason and wouldn't fulfill my demands. After 5 hours of waiting, a regular surgeon visited my room with an extremely scary-looking needle that proved its length when inserted horizontally across my forehead. In 20 more minutes, it was stitched up and I was off to my first day of nursing school with a very swollen noggin that was still puffy and discolered with Lidocane.
Now, armed with duct tape and some packing styrofoam, I am rush-proofing the coop corners and opting to not include steel on the coops which has not had the edges sanded. See photo below for frankenstein stitches. Some clever friends of mine have asked me if I am "third eye blind," and have also labeled it as a "chicken scratch". Hardy-harr-harr....