happy new year part 2

Today's the Mayan New Year's day, right. So the metaphysical thing to do is set up your intention for the coming year with what you do today.
I don't want to have dirty birdcages. So I decided to corral my two litle Perfect Lorikeets in a spare cage (which is plenty big enough for them, just smaller than their usual cage), then take their putrid disgusting cage (which hasn't been washed since November) outside. It's been raining so I figured the rain could soften up the encrustations until I had time and energy to actually scrub.
Step one, always fun: catch the little buggers. First I tried with the towel. That's a joke. Then I found the net. As soon as I entered the bird room with the net, four birds started shrieking at top volume. They all know and hate The Net. The Net means The Car and The Vet and for the Lance and Zeebo, lots of stress-related epileptic seizures. I capture the two Perfects with a minimum of fuss, get them into the smaller cage, and take apart the big cage, take out the dirty paper, remove their toys, food and water to the new cage, etc. I take the top part of the cage and start carrying it outside.
It gets stuck in the door, but I'm not expecting that so I keep moving forward. The door flaps down and the sharp metal edge rips into me. I get the cage outside and come back in to get the bottom half. But my leg is starting to hurt and I've got that drippy feeling, so I roll up my pants leg and find that horrible black blood just running down my right calf from two really deep puncture wounds. Thought one: this is gonna get wickedly infected; that cage is FILTHY. Thought two: when did I last have a tetanus shot? I call the doctor's office and they don't show a tenatus shot (I had one in high school, can't remember having one since). The receptionist tells me to go to the emergency room. I refuse so she squeezes me in to come immediately.
The good news is that I've lost at least 23 lbs in the last month (diet, exercise, amphetamines).
The bad news is that by the time the doctor saw me, only about 45 minutes after the injury, my leg was already swelling. And it was my GOOD leg. So I'm limping on both legs like Quasimodo. And I can't work out until Friday or when the wound is "dry" which I guess means scabbed.
Happy New Year!