A Slice of Life

Let me set the facts straight (in case you did not already know); I do not like to cook. I loathe it. If I have to prepare dinner, it will most likely involve a sandwich, the microwave, cereal or all of the above. My husband must really love me because he never comments on the location of dinner or files any complaints. Since Scott eats out for the entire week due to travel, I wanted to make sure for one day we would have all our meals at home. Despite my feelings of entering the kitchen, I was determined to make a nice meal for the family. The menu: hamburgers, baby potatoes, and corn. Simple, right? I took the frozen hamburgers from the freezer, and noticed they were stuck together. After slamming them against the tile floor without success of separation, my eyes drifted over to the steak knives. I grabbed one, started using it as an ice pick, felt a sharp pain and Viola - sliced my thumb. Another fact to mention (in case you did not already know); I can’t handle the sight of blood. Once it registered in my brain what had happened, I immediately grabbed the injured appendage, balled my fists into my stomach, started hunching over in pain and yelled for Scott. All he knew before running down the stairs is that I had cut myself with a knife. He did not know where. I found out later that day he thought I had stabbed myself in the stomach due to my posture. That definitely explains the look on his face when he first saw me. It probably only took minutes, but felt like an eternity for me to have the courage to release the death grip on my thumb for Scott to assess the damage. As I let go, I could feel blood in my other hand, and had to gently roll the good hand away since it was stuck to the thumb. (All systems go, passing out sequence has started !) With a calm and caring voice, Scott announces that we may need to visit the emergency room. At that point, I lost it, started crying. Our weekend time is SO precious. We were NOT going to waste it at the hospital. Since the bleeding stopped after the band aid was applied, I was content with the situation. Thanks to my husband, my kids did not need to dial 911. I know without a doubt I would have been on that tile floor, passed out cold. Believe it or not, I still continued with lunch… but got out of dinner! ;-) It’s been almost a week since the incident, and the wound seems to be healing up nicely, but it sure has left a mark.