Yes, I intended the "howareya" to be one word.
|Warning|You may want to skip this if you have a weak stomach. I'm restraining myself from posting my favorite pictures...for now. But no promises for tomorrow or the day after. I like to tell the whole story, after all...
On Friday I volunteered to help prep and serve lunch for 90 missionaries at my church with some other lovely women I know. It all sounded like a good idea until five minutes after I arrived. There were around 20 aluminum pans of brownies to be cut and I jumped right in, hoping there might be some crumbs to catch with this job. The first pan may or may not have been a smidge overdone and a bit tough to cut (Sorry Jenny...we'll blame the ovens at the church, ok? Ok.). So I sawed at it a bit and finally the freshly sharpened Cutco paring knife I was using sliced right through them...and the aluminum pan they were in...and then right on through the pad of my left middle finger.
When sharing my story with my friend Lori yesterday she asked me if I passed out at this point. I'm getting the impression that a lot of people would have, because my finger was not a pretty scene my friends, no it was not. You should probably be thankful that you were not there. But I was and as usual I'm a smidge too calm in these situations. We just patched me up and I got back to work..not cutting brownies or anything else involving sharp objects for that matter, but I did what I could, stopping every so often to change bandages, because as I said...it wasn't pretty.
So what would a sensible person have done after the lunch was over? Go directly to a doctor, you say? Well, I've never claimed to be sensible and I really, truly don't like to over react when it comes to medical things. I have no idea why, but the idea of a medical professional rolling their eyes at me as they walk out of the exam room for some reason keeps me from going unless I really need to. I just don't want to be "that mom"...to a fault, I suppose. Case in point: Grace being hospitalized for dehydration when she got ROTA virus at 19 months old because when I called the doctor after hours (which was hard enough to talk me into), he told me to see how she was in the morning and instead of going with my instincts, I didn't want to bother anyone. Not a personality trait I'm exactly bragging about!
So what did I do? Went to a fabric store to pick out some fleece with my mother. But after my sister in law helped me re-bandage at dinner, and shared her opinion that I needed stitches, I actually Googled "How do I know if I need stitches", and then finally decided to head to a doctor around 8pm.
Five stitches later, here I am...
{This photo was taken by Grace on Sunday. Not too bad, right? Please ignore those pretty little lines sprouting around my eyes. I am embracing my thirties. I am embracing my thirties. I am embracing my thirties...}
So now I'm learning to shower with one hand and type with nine fingers. I know I do a lot of things with my left hand (It's arguable whether I'm actually right handed or not), but I had no idea just how many. The upside? The doctor said no dishes or cooking until the stitches come out, which now looks like it won't be for two weeks, and I'm pretty sure Harland won't let me touch knives for a long time.
ps: Harland told me I should not post a before and after of my stitches. I guess people don't want their stomachs to turn, but I thought it'd be fun! See? I do listen to him.
3 comments:
I like the lines on you, which aren't many. I really do. They makes your eyes sparkle all the more.
Second...um OUCH! I get the not wanting the medical professionals to roll their eyes at you though. I have been guilty of waiting a tad too long for that very reason myself.
I, for one, like all varieties of before and after pictures. I say post them anyway ;)
I was waiting for this post! But I have to say I wanted to see the before pics! I am sure you used your wonderful photography skills to make them the most graphic as you could! POST THEM!
POST! Let's see the deformity! :)
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