I'm never touching ANYTHING in the kitchen again. If you read the old blog you remember the tale of the great house fire of 2007. To summarize, 25K worth of damage *thank the Lord for renters insurance* and a six week stay with my in-laws *thank the Lord for gracious, understanding in-laws* and Ben and I decided it was best for Shannon to NOT cook.
Last night after Bets, Ben and I web-cammed with Granny I started to make myself a sandwich. I was cutting a piece of left-over french bread (those carbs are deadly!) and I took a chunk of my left pointer finger off. YEOW!!
Ben jumped up and wrapped a kitchen towel around my finger and I said immediately "this needs stitches". He wanted to wait a few minutes to make sure it wasn't just a shallow cut that would stop bleeding on its own (nope). So we loaded Betsy up, dropped her off at my in-laws and drove to Temple to get treated. This is a little pathetic, don't you think? I mean, no cooking, OK. I can't even make a flipping sandwich without bleeding?! LAME.
I cut my finger at about 7:30 in the evening. We dropped Betsy off, drove 20 minutes to the hospital, got treated, drove twenty minutes back to our neighborhood, picked Betsy up and made it home before 10 pm. That's pretty impressive for an ER visit (I would know). We also had a great doctor and nurse this time around, and both agreed I needed to work on my story..."You cut your finger slicing bread?" Ben's adaptation was something about me in a bar fight breaking a bottle and slicing my finger. WAY cooler. Also, while stitching me up the doctor kept saying what dainty little hands and fingers I have. Actually, right now I have nine dainty fingers and a Shrek finger.
Being the cool kids we are, we broke out the camera to document my first unplanned stitches.
First the doctor injected my nerves with numbing solution. That was a by far the most painful part of the experience.
The shot from HELL
My reaction to the shot
Ben's reaction to the story of how this happened
Shannon getting a tetanus shot
Post bandaging
Gangster pose
My reaction to Ben telling me to stay out of the kitchen. "Don't tell me what to do!"
And FYI, Betsy thinks my bandaged finger is a new toy. As I dressed her this morning she grabbed it and squeezed with all her might. NOT COOL.
8 comments:
sorry you and the knife didn't get along, but we can't help but laugh. Glad you and Ben see the humor in it!
I really shouldn't be giggling as I read this but how do you manage to get yourself into these predicaments?! Is everything ok now?
Aww, so sorry you got hurt! Knives are not my friends either. Glad that you're okay, though.
Ouch! Poor Shan!
Poor Shan!! I'm glad you are okay!
Um, owwwww. I think you guys need to teach Bets to make her own food at a young age. Mac n cheese could be catastrophic for you guys!
your picture commentary is hilarious
Feel better!
I was reading this before I went to bed the other night and I dreamed I met you in the ER. You had Betsy with you and they called "Betsy Hamburgerstance" but I argued with you that that wasn't your last name! LOL. Then you said Blastname is just an internet fake name.
I think I have cookouts on the brain.
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