Landon left Sunday night for Idaho. On Monday morning I dragged myself out of bed to face the next 36 hours with just me and the kids. I admit that I'm a complete baby when Landon is gone. I don't do well. Anyway, I was digging some dried out brownies out of the pan when the butter knife I was wielding slipped and landed directly in my palm. Pretty deeply into my palm. I immediately grabbed my hand and went into the bathroom. I called Landon and broke down. I don't like blood, I don't like pain, I don't like not having Landon at home. So, I may or may not have been hysterical. I got off the phone because Landon wasn't much medical help. I called my mom who was also out of town. She called my dad who drove over.
At that point I heard a knock on my door and found my neighbor. She told me that Landon had called her and said I probably wasn't thinking straight. So true. She also brought me some extra strength tylenol. Much appreciated.
Anyway, after that, my dad got here, put us all in the car and drove me to the clinic. An hour later I walked out with three stitches. Not bad. And for those of you who haven't had stitches in a long time, it wasn't my favorite. The numbing shots were painful, and then they scrubbed out the wound. It makes my stomach roll just thinking of it.
After we got home my wonderful dad did all the dishes, swept the floor, and later that day brought us food for dinner and dinner the next day. He wins all points.
4 comments:
Hey, do you think if I stabbed myself with a butter knife your dad would come and do my housework for me? Some days it would almost be worth it.
OH DEAR!!! Your palm sounds like it would hurt, and you weren't even doing something fun or noble! Thank goodness for your Dad!
Ow! Thanks for the warning. I know it's not good for me, but I always scrape out over dried brownies.
Not fun! Hands are one of those things that are hard to do without. Hope your wound heals soon.
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