The Bum Finger

So, I know lots of bloggers give you the excuse of why they haven't been updating, but I have an actual good one this week.
Yeah, that's a splint you see. Tuesday night, while my husband prepared turkey burgers for us, he asked me to cut up a few slices of cheese after he saw our wire cheese slicer was dirty.

"I'm bad with knives," he said, "so you do it." He's told me this a million times, but you must also know, that we have a beautiful, new, ultra sharp set of knives that we received for our wedding; they're absolutely wonderful to cook with! So, I started to cut the wonderful sharp cheddar I had picked up from the Wedge Coop, and all be it, it was rough cutting, so I tried a few different ways, and then decided to just take it easy, and slowly cut across it.

I'm not sure what happened next, a sudden movement, and I let out a gasp, and had my bleeding left middle finger under our kitchen sink. Normally, with any little cut, the running water stops the bleeding, but not this time, it was coming out like I had never seen before.

Ben rushed over saying, "Is it bad? Oh, it's bad. You have to go in, that is not good."

"It's fine, I'll wash it, and pressure it with paper towel," I responded.

Then I looked at the counter and saw the dribbles of blood, and the blood droplet on the cheese. Then, I looked up to see where blood had sprayed the wall behind the sink when the water hit my wound, and thought, "EEK! That's gross, this can't be good" And at that moment, the what had been painless cut began to sting like an SOB and soak through the wads of paper towel I had wrapped around it.

At that point, Ben just declared, "We're going to the ER." I kept trying to convince him to clean up the kitchen first, he wouldn't oblige (it's the control freak in me!)

So, long story short, we went to the ER. I was seen by a doctor who I don't think could even shave yet (and Ben told me I was ridiculous when I started asking him when he graduated med school, where he did his residency, etc.). They gave me a numbing agent, that didn't even fully numb the top of my finger where the cut was (but was the worst needle pain I've ever experienced, I was THAT screaming person in the ER), and then proceeded to give me three stitches.

So, lovely readers, typing is a bit of an annoyance with this lovely splint, so bear with me, and remember to be careful in the kitchen!