Our story starts last Friday:
I decided to take work off because I had worked extra hours, so I could. Why not? This means I could fix wreath for our front door that had been broken for a week, Make the apple chips I found on Pinterest with all the apples we got in our Bountiful Basket (p.s. amaaaazing. do it if you have one in your area.), clean the house, try to resuscitate our plants, and take the dogs on a walk (one at a time, mind you. I'm not crazy enough to take a 50 lb slow-paced Lab and a 65 lb four-wheel-drive Golden Retriver on a walk at the same time.)... I had plans... then they were all crushed with one bad decision...
About those apple chips... I had ordered a new Mandoline to slice my apples on. A billion times easier than a knife (possibly I'm knife challenged... and after my story maybe anything with a blade shouldn't be within 100 feet of me.) and much more uniform. (That's my OCD coming out.) Just so you know they send those guard/food holder things for a reason. You're supposed to use them no matter how far away your fingers are from the blade. Yes, that's right- I learned that the hard way. As I was slicing my Granny Smith Apples into perfect 1/4" slices, I ended up with a 1/4" slice of Mickelle Smith Finger in the mix.
Awesome.
Even better? Rick wasn't home.
I grabbed a paper towel, that coincidentally had sandpaper-like texture, and held it over the gushing wound (no lies here. gushing.) as I ran around the house trying to find my phone to call Rick to come save me. Just as I sit the "send" button with my elbow he pulls up with my 2 younger brothers in tow. I ran to the door and told Rick "I cut off my finger with the slicer" (Okay- a little stretch.) And my wonderful, kind, sweet, sympathetic husband said...
"Nuh-uh. No you didn't. Stop joking."
I'm for real here... okay it was only the tip that got cut off, but I was probably in the worst pain of my life (all concentrated to one square inch on the tip of my finger.) and bleeding through the five paper towels I had on my hand. He was totally waiting for my to yell "Just Kidding" at any moment.
Don't worry though, after 2 seconds of putting all this evidence together, he reached over to hold me... and bumped my hand. OUUUCHHH!!! He asked what I wanted to do- go to the E.R.? Of course not... I wasn't going to pay $1000 to sit in a waiting room for 3 hours. (I go there all the time for work... I know how they work. Plus- I was only gushing blood- not dying yet so I would be low on that patient priority list.) I guess I thought if I held on to the wad of paper towels long enough, it would stop bleeding and life would be good again. Finally, he convinced me to go to our regular Dr. We called in and headed into the doctors office, where my mom would meet me to pick up the two boys. (forgot I had my brothers with me, didn't you? They were awesome and totally helpful with getting me paper towels and grabbing my phone... one even carried my purse in for me.)
After 4 or 5 different people asking to see it (PAINFUL.. then the gushing again.) to decide what to do wtih me. (You can't stich up a hole.) Finally they gave me something to numb it a little.
Angels sang and the stars rejoiced!
My finger stopped screaming.
After waiting another 30 minutes the Dr. came in, shot some numbing stuff in it (weirdest feeling ever! First time I've ever had that.), and cauterized it.
Can I just tell you, Numbing is the greatest thing in the world! I couldn't feel half of my hand the rest of the day!
Great!
Today, almost a week later- that silly numbing medicine wore off too long ago. It's definitely not to the calliber that it was- but I still have to type this sans my right-middle finger. (Pretty impressive, eh?) I've had a bandage that looked like I had a light bulb on my finger, which in turn made me feel like I was flipping people off every time I showed them my hand. It's fine though... Good thing I haven't had any Deaf students this week, and the freelance interpreting job I did this week was just grateful I was there (even if I had to fingerspell with my left hand). Taking off the bandage twice a day is the worst part of my life (it sticks to my finger and HuuuuRRrrttTs!) but... soon I will have the coolest finger in the world (minus my brother who has a crooked finger from an infection he got from a sliver.).
I have a flat-top finger!
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| I didn't want to gross people out too much so this is the nicest picture I could get. It actually looks much better in this picture. |
Other things I have accomplished this week with the flat-top finger:
- Went to Zumba and locked my keys in the car (locksmiths? charge waaaay too much. I would have done it myself if I had something to do it with)
- Broke... and fixed a pipe under the sink.
- Went "camping" (okay we went for the night cookout, came home, then went back in the morning for breakfast)
- Taught the lesson at church... with writing on the chalkboard. Not the easiest thing when you're right handed.
- Attempted to play the piano- it didn't work- but I tried.
- Made exactly ONE meal since Friday that wasn't a Salad, Fruit, or a Sandwich. I love Rick. He's pretty good at taking care of me and my poor finger.
