Weekly lesson #2: A big slice of life

Saturday was Princess' First Communion, and we were having people over to the house for a celebration after the service. As I was slicing bagels for the brunch, I slipped with the knife and gashed open the knuckle on my left hand. Now, please don't give me the lecture about the right way to slice bagels, because I've already gotten it. Repeatedly. I let out a gasp of pain, dropped the bagel and knife in the sink, and started running cold water over my hand. The sight of the flap of thumb was not pretty. Hubby heard my cry out and came in to investigate. The room was starting to spin a bit, and I was feeling pretty nauseated, so I leaned over and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply. Hubby went to get a bandage. Then he heard me hit the floor. I don't think I completely lost consciousness, but I couldn't sit up straight either. The dizziness subsided and Hubby helped me walk to the couch and brought me a bucket in case my heaving produced anything (they didn't, except for some noises that made Hoss the burp champion green with envy). After a few minutes, my stomach settled and I stopped sweating, so I returned to the kitchen, cleaned the knife, and sliced the remaining bagels. I changed the bandage before we left for church, and changed it again when we returned from the service. Since the cut didn't seem to be closing on its own, I figured I'd better get it stitched up. I fixed a quick plate of food, since I had no idea how long I'd be waiting to get my thumb fixed. Not wanting to be bother, I figured I'd drive myself to the ER. My dad saw me get in the car and asked where I was going. "I'm going to get some stitches in my thumb," I told him. "Why? You really think you need stitches?! Let me see it," he said. So I unwrapped the bandage, and he looked at the wound. And he paused for a fraction of a second and replied, "OK, then. Why don't you have someone drive you." I drove to the hospital, but did take Nic with me for company and a ride home (in case my hand was too numb for me to drive myself.) We waited a few hours at the ER, they stitched me up (only 5 stitches- I expected more) and we came home. I expect that I will be getting at least seven bagel slicers for my birthday this year.


Blogger Peeved Michelle said...

Yeouch! Take good care of your cut. I smashed my hand with a filing cabinet last month (the whole thing, falling right on my hand) and the resulting flap of crinkled skin made me feel lightheaded every time I looked at. I am not normally squeamish, but something about it just was not right. I didn't end up needing stitches though, since that flap couldn't be saved.

5/18/2006 3:38 PM  

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Who's Who

    Hubby- aka DH My husband since 1995. He is the head of the band department at a college prep school, and dabbles as a wanna-be pop star.

    The Princess- aka DD. Third grader at the local parochial school. Loves butterlies, sparkly things, the color purple and has recently developed a crush on one of the twins from "The Suite Life of Zach and Cody". Is ready for her teenage years, having already perfected her exasperated sigh and dramatic eye-roll.

    Hoss- aka DS1. Kindergartener and resident spirited child. His aunt likes to call him "the evil genius" because of his penchant for letting a lack of intellectual stimulation lead him into mischief. Likes trucks, sports, building things and burping. His current favorite word is "underwear."

    Lil Joe- aka DS2. Born in 2003. Doesn't say much we can understand, but has mastered the important stuff ("eat!", "Wash hands!", "Want chocolate ones!", "Hockey game!") Likes to push buttons, much to the consternation of whoever is trying to watch a DVD. Firmly refuses to use the potty, despite evidence that he is physically ready to be out of diapers, indicating a level of stubborn that eclipses even that of his parents and siblings.

    Me? I'm the Mama. That's all you need to know.

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