Grandma Max Syndrome

I've got a problem that seems to have been passed through a few generations. It's something I lovingly call  Grandma Max Syndrome. This syndrome is what happens whenever one of the people who has it gets injured. They'll get injured somehow, and not really make a big deal about it. Or, what that actually means is not even acknowledge it. When my grandma was having a stroke, she exclaimed, "I'm fine!" while at the same time half of her face was drooping. When my mother fell out of the attic, and I was screaming about needing to take her to the hospital, she simply said, "It's okay, let me just lay here for a second." No.

Grandma Max Syndrome is pretty common for a lot of runners too, not wanting to admit we're injured. Thankfully, this is not where Grandma Max Syndrome has hit me. On Thanksgiving day when taking the delicious brie out of the oven, the pan hit my arm.
"Did you burn yourself?", my cousins asked.
"Don't worry about it," as I backed away slowly. Sure, I put my arm under cold water, but soon I was over by the brie, indulging.

What I didn't mention to anyone afterwards was that my arm was still stinging a couple hours later. Sure I'm telling y'all but I don't really mention when I get hurt in the moment. Eh. I only mentioned it after it was noticed, and someone asked, "What happened to your arm?" Today it started blistering. I've never gotten a burn this bad.



Little, but still icky.

 Sometimes you're an idiot you do crazy things for what you love. Meaning cheese baked in crescent rolls.

Other than burnt arms, I got to see one of my best friends from high school today! Due to the fact that they've been remodeling the high school, we decided to go take a look at it. Funny thing was, while we were there, one of the teachers drove up and let us explore inside! Don't you love crazy happenings like that?

Have you ever been injured and just not acknowledge it?