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Archive for August, 2011

Or maybe an Igorina.  I haven’t decided which yet.

STORY TIME.

So today, I was kind of on a productivity roll, doing laundry, shopping for school, all kinds of fabulous stuff.  I bought a set of kind of cheap bowls at Wal-Mart, and after I ate lunch I rolled into the kitchen and decided to “unpackage” the bowls.  Being cheap Wal-Mart plastic bowls, they were held together with a bit of cellophane around the rims.  I tried pulling the cellophane off with my hands, but with no luck.

And then I got what is called a brilliant idea.

Sitting not six inches away was the knife block, and one of the smaller, more wieldy knives was just sitting there, waiting to be used.  I’d done this sort of  handy trick before: it was just a matter of inserting the knife in between the cellophane and the bowls, twisting outwards, and cutting the annoying cellophane apart.

I grabbed the knife, and the procedure got off to a rather banging start. But then I got to tricky part: the twist of the knife.

It happened in an instant: I turned the knife, and the plastic didn’t part.  The skin on the tip of my right hand thumb, however, did. Rather spectacularly.

I gasped; I shouted; I ran to the sink to rinse the wound off and examine the damage.  Paper towels were applied to the wound, and I tried (unsuccessfully, I might add) not to think about all the blood that was unfortunately welling from the rather terrifyingly deep cut.  I rushed to the linen closet in the hallway, all the while shouting very inappropriate curses at something near the top of my voice, and grabbed a clean washcloth, then rushed back to the kitchen (still cursing, still loudly) to wrap an ice cube in said washcloth and apply it to the (still bleeding) cut on the principle that applying pressure and cold helps a wound stop bleeding.

It was at this point that my brain started in on a panic track.  (I should perhaps mention that I was home alone at the time.)  What if it wouldn’t stop bleeding? What if I had to go to the doctor?  I couldn’t drive myself there and keep pressure on the wound at the same time!

It didn’t take more than thirty seconds for me to arrive at that magical place known as the Verge of Tears.  I hurried back to my bedroom, picked up the phone, and did what all brave people do in times like these: I called my mother.

…who recommended that I continue as before with the ice and the pressure, but throw in some Elevate the Wound for good measure, along with a good portion the time-honored Wait and See If It Gets Better.

I elevated the wound, and passed the time by watching an episode of Doctor Who.  (I’ll have to tell you more about that in the future.)

Forty-five minutes later, my fingertip was numb and, unfortunately, still bleeding.

On the upside, my father was home and I thus had a lift to the doctor’s office, where I nearly reached the Verge of Tears when they told me I had to fill out some paperwork.  I recovered  by getting very annoyed instead (and thankfully the fact that I was kind of obviously bleeding meant they helped me quickly), and filling out the forms with a vengeance.  I also took the time, in that moment, to be grateful that I’d turned out left-handed; if I’d been right-handed I probably would have rushed right over the Verge of Tears and straight into its bordering Valley.

Paperwork was filled out, co-pays were paid, and I was taken straight back to the nice little room labeled “Surgery.”  I explained the situation with much the same humor I am now (it’s easy to be self-deprecating when you’ve been kind of obviously stupid), and after half an hour, some Buffy Speak non-cursewords, and a winningly hummed rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner”, I walked out of the office with five stitches and a tetanus shot.

So that was my day: tried to do something clever with a knife, ended up turning into a mini-Frankenstein’s monster.

 

Apologies for suddenly dropping off the face of the Internet.  It kind of has something to do with Doctor Who, and also with my recent family vacation, both of which I’ll hopefully be talking about soon.

Until next time!

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