It seemed like such a good idea at the time
So, I was washing out my favorite tea pot last night.
I had the whole evening planned for cleaning and straightening and general housewife chores. I started the laundry (and left it laying all over the bedroom floor) and then switched to dishes when I saw a crunchy dead roach in the corner of the room behind my bedside table.
The teapot is a bowl of thick glass set into a plastic black handle. When it's washed, water and soap gets stuck between the plastic and the glass. It's designed to come apart so that it can drain and dry properly. I was doing that, taking it apart, that which has been done a million times since I bought the damn thing, and my hand went through the glass.
I gashed my left index finger pretty good, my thumb not as badly. There's just a small cut on my middle finger, and an even smaller scratch on my ring finger. My pinkie lucked out completely and wasn't even touched. (I owe this to my fancy, pinkie lifting ways.) In my panic, I looked for a towel to stop the river of life that flowed from my fingertips. I had to use my favorite yellow dish towel instead of the dark green one in my bedroom, since I would have never made it across the apartment without bleeding all over myself and the rug. Not that I didn't try.
First I called mom to whine, and then I called Harris to drive me to the emergency room. Like a true knight, he sped over and assessed the damage. I was originally set on going to the hospital to have it looked at, fearing nerve damage and stitches. He talked me into Dr. Walgreen's instead, where we picked up Bactine (No sting my foot)and waterproof super band aids. H. then washed my hand, disinfected it, picked out towel fuzz and bandaged me up while I cried like a baby. He even wiped the blood off the linoleum, because I was afraid it would stain. After that, I felt better.
I had to change the band aid on my index finger this morning because I was bleeding out, but it looked like it was on it's way to closing itself. It's still bleeding and it fucking hurts, but I think I might just make it. My left hand (Good for driving, playing ping pong and cutting meat) is pretty much useless for now. If I attempt grasping of any kind, my index finger feels like it's being ripped at the seams. I still might need stitches, but I'll wait a few days and see if I can't bounce back on my own.
I am so pissed. My favorite tea pot and my favorite dish towel are both ruined. How will I ever move on?
I had the whole evening planned for cleaning and straightening and general housewife chores. I started the laundry (and left it laying all over the bedroom floor) and then switched to dishes when I saw a crunchy dead roach in the corner of the room behind my bedside table.
The teapot is a bowl of thick glass set into a plastic black handle. When it's washed, water and soap gets stuck between the plastic and the glass. It's designed to come apart so that it can drain and dry properly. I was doing that, taking it apart, that which has been done a million times since I bought the damn thing, and my hand went through the glass.
I gashed my left index finger pretty good, my thumb not as badly. There's just a small cut on my middle finger, and an even smaller scratch on my ring finger. My pinkie lucked out completely and wasn't even touched. (I owe this to my fancy, pinkie lifting ways.) In my panic, I looked for a towel to stop the river of life that flowed from my fingertips. I had to use my favorite yellow dish towel instead of the dark green one in my bedroom, since I would have never made it across the apartment without bleeding all over myself and the rug. Not that I didn't try.
First I called mom to whine, and then I called Harris to drive me to the emergency room. Like a true knight, he sped over and assessed the damage. I was originally set on going to the hospital to have it looked at, fearing nerve damage and stitches. He talked me into Dr. Walgreen's instead, where we picked up Bactine (No sting my foot)and waterproof super band aids. H. then washed my hand, disinfected it, picked out towel fuzz and bandaged me up while I cried like a baby. He even wiped the blood off the linoleum, because I was afraid it would stain. After that, I felt better.
I had to change the band aid on my index finger this morning because I was bleeding out, but it looked like it was on it's way to closing itself. It's still bleeding and it fucking hurts, but I think I might just make it. My left hand (Good for driving, playing ping pong and cutting meat) is pretty much useless for now. If I attempt grasping of any kind, my index finger feels like it's being ripped at the seams. I still might need stitches, but I'll wait a few days and see if I can't bounce back on my own.
I am so pissed. My favorite tea pot and my favorite dish towel are both ruined. How will I ever move on?