A Killer Concoction

So the big move to Charleston has been relatively easy compared to the other horror stories I've experienced in the past (see Back in the Burg).  We actually had a moving truck available, and get this... no feline urine odor in our new place.  However, WV doesn't have rental laws, and this normally means you move in to a pretty dirty apartment that desperately needs to be painted and dowsed in bleach.  The new place is beautiful!  It's a large 1920's house that was converted into apartments in the 60's (according to the information sheet left on our refrigerator).  So, the meager cleaning and painting are small tasks to endure for the charming apartment Bri helped us find.  (It's nice having friends who care about your living quarters as much as you do!)

Anyway... more on the cleaning.

I decided our bathroom needed a little hardcore scrubbing.  I thought to myself, "Self, what kills everything it touches?"

BLEACH  √


Naturally, I listened to myself and started cleaning with bleach (and a little water).  Midway through the cleaning, I noticed the bleach was still leaving a yellow color behind on the caulking.  So, I thought to myself again, "Self, what is the second strongest chemical that I have in my little OCD cleaning collection?"

AMMONIA √

I bet if I mix these two bad ass chemicals together I'll create an even bad-ER ass chemical. (This, unfortunately, was my actual thought process)

COMMON SENSE  X

I put my big girl cleaning gloves back on, pushed my Betty the Riveter sleeves up, put the stopper in the tub, poured a hefty amount of straight bleach, mixed in some ammonia, and started scrubbing.

Source

This, dear readers, is where it gets hard to continue.  Have you ever done something SO embarrassingly stupid that you'd rather it just go unnoticed for the rest of your life so you can keep pretending like you're a smart, educated woman with a good head on her shoulders?  

Great!  So you understand.

I'll break down the series of events (in which I remember) that occurred:

11:06 A.M.  Once the bleach and ammonia were married together in my bathtub, my eyes instantaneously started pouring with water.  

11:09 A.M.   Being that I'm allergic to nearly everything... I convinced myself this was just my individual reaction to these chemicals, and that I should most definitely keep cleaning for the better good of the bathtub.  Think of Betty, Cap!

11:10 A.M.   I kept cleaning.

11:13 A.M.   My throat started to burn when I would breath over the tub, so I began taking big breaths away from the tub, putting my shirt's collar over my mouth, and YES, you guessed it, SCRUBBING MORE!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME, AND WHY DO I HAVE A PSYCHO OBSESSION AND AN INTENSE DESIRE FOR A WHITE BATHTUB?! 

11:15 A.M   FINALLY,  when I started coughing uncontrollably, became a little light headed, and started to feel like I was going to throw up in the bathtub..... I stopped cleaning.

11:16 A.M.   I ran out of the bathroom, Googled "ammonia poisoning" (At this point, I still didn't realize it was from mixing bleach and ammonia, but rather just from using too much ammonia).  It was here when I read in bold print:

"WARNING:  NEVER MIX AMMONIA AND BLEACH.  THIS CREATES A VAPOR KNOW AS CHLORAMINE THAT CAN BE DEADLY."

And that was when I realized I'd just started the slow killing process of myself and my innocent bystander puppy.  The crime tape would be wrapped around my apartment bathroom shortly, and the headline would read, "Medical student's wife kills herself and their 11 month old puppy".

Okay, maybe I exaggerate a smidgen.

I called everyone I knew that either had a background in chemistry or OCD cleaning.

NO ONE ANSWERED.

I called everyone AGAIN.

Finally, my smart friend answered.

CATHERINE!  YOU CANNOT MIX THOSE TOGETHER.  YOU WILL MELT YOUR LUNGS!

Sweet.  Melted lungs, but a clean bathroom.  Score!  (kidding)

Epilogue:

Other than losing my self worth and wishing I would have paid more attention in my chemistry class... I'm okay.  After a frantic Facebook post to warn friends of the "unknown dangers" of mixing chemicals together, I realized a few things:

A.  I'm actually not the only person who has done this.  (though that doesn't help my lungs)

B.  If you mix vinegar and Dawn together, let it sit for 30 mins, and scrub onto yellowed caulking and grout... It actually whitens without melting important organs.

So, hopefully you've learned a valuable lesson through my ignorance. 

You're welcome.

-Cap

Isolation and its Correlation with Bouts of Vacuuming

If someone were to ask me to describe in one word what the medical school experience has been like thus far, I would say isolated.

¹iso·late

vt \ˈī-sə-ˌlāt\

: to set apart from others: as a : to separate (one with a contagious disease) from others not similarly infected b : to separate (as a chemical compound) from all other substances : obtain pure or in a free state 

Medical school has physically separated me from family and friends.

Medical school has oftentimes physically separated me from W as he works long/night shifts.

Medical school has most definitely separated me emotionally from W.

Medical school has very adeptly separated me intellectually from W.

Medical school has seen me atrophied on the couch, flipping through channels, isolated from fun, activity, society, life, on numerous weekend evenings as W worked/studied/sold his soul.

I blame medical school for isolating me from my skinny jeans.

Medical school has isolated me from the South Carolina coast for over a year now.

There will be no forgiving medical school for that one.

I find that medical school is always the best scapegoat for most of mine and maybe even the world's troubles and worries.

For instance, global warming.

I blame medical school.

So, how do you know if you are isolated?

Do you find yourself calling your parents randomly and frequently just to ask them such questions as,

"What did you guys have for dinner?"

"Did you go out to eat this weekend?"

"Can you send me your Sams card so I can buy those big blocks of cheese?"

"What are your plans for the night?" (By the way, its a Tuesday, and you know good and well that your parents are always in bed by 9--9:15 tops.)

"Are you sitting on the porch?"

"When did I stop liking ham?"

"Did you buy anything this weekend?"

Have you talked to your cat lately? Admit it.

Have you contemplated the drawbacks of Netflix? I mean, how long does it take for them to update their instant streaming new releases!?!

Do you know how many kids your Kroger cashier has and what ages they were when they stopped wetting the bed?

Do you talk about reality tv stars like they're your BFFs? 

Do you worry about them between episodes?

Do you vacuum your entire apartment every day? I find that the more frequently I vacuum, the lonelier I am. Case in point: W worked three 12 hour shifts for the past three weeks. The apartment was vacuumed 3-4 times each week.

If you do any of these things, then, yes, you are extremely isolated.

Seek help ASAP.

-b