Monday, April 13, 2015

Kitchen: 1. BlondieChell: 0,

  I've had a very hard time deciding how to label this story and with which direction to take it in. Am I blaming my new calorie counter app for my mishap (as in, if I hadn't had entered the meal before I actually ate it, would this

have happened????)?? Or griping about how the children ate raw potatoes and apples that were waiting to be sliced while I bled to death (not to mention the 8yo who disappeared, only to reappear five minutes later, crying because he was afraid his parents would die.
    Some people laugh whenever I try to explain that "the kitchen hats me". Others mistaken my statement as my own personal dislike for the kitchen....when the reality is, I try my hardest to cooperate and submit to the ways of the kitchen. It truly is the kitchen who has a vendetta for me.
    Oh, I started my adult years with naive, lofty thoughts about things I could whip up, dreaming of one day owning one of those fancy-dancy KitchenAid mixers...but the kitchen had other ideas. My main foes include the microwave, oven and stove top. Why?? All I can think of is that they've had it in for me from the beginning...planning, plotting...whispering in the dark....mocking me as I sit here, typing this without the use of my right middle finger....because of last night's mishap.
    Let me set the scene for you: I'm in the middle of cooking dinner It's late and two of the three children are in the kitchen helping me, when all of a sudden, I REMEMBER that I had promised the Hubs that I would make potato chips!!! Uh-oh! So I proceeded to quickly clean, peel and slice potatoes.
    So while the last quesadilla was in the pan and I was slicing the future delectable home-made potato chips, something drastic happened. I lost a piece of my finger. It slid right off while I was slicing a potato and into the bowl holding potato slices.
    Knowing that this was not a good thing. I rushed to the sink to clean the wound. Blood spurted everywhere (did you know that since there's a lot of nerve endings in the tip of a finger, that means there's also a lot of blood??) I moved to the island in the kitchen with paper towels pressed onto my latest injury. I stood there answering the children's questions of "What happened??" and "Do you need to go to the hospital??".  Since I spent a good portion of my childhood in emergency rooms, I knew that my injury was minor....
      And that's when I started to panic. (I am *excellent* at panicking, by the way). See, I wasn't concerned so much about myself, but there was blood and it wasn't stopping...and my poor hungry children were noshing on raw potatoes and apples that were sanctioned to be sliced. All I needed was for the blood to stop and my children to be fed.....when the 8yo comes out of his room, crying. Because he suddenly realized that one day Mommy and Daddy may die. This helps no one.
      After texting a friend, I called the Hubs at work to come home...then our EMT friend who is 2 time zones away training. He confirmed my thoughts about an ER visit and advised me how to wrap it. My maimed finger and I made it through the night and the next day. The blood stopped flowing and I've downgraded the wrap to a Lighting McQueen bandaid, but the message remains clear: I'm not welcome in the kitchen. Though I do not take this warning lightly, there are times when I cannot avoid being in the same room with the kitchen, but I will be more mindful to tread softly.

            And I have spared you the most gruesome photos that contain blood and gore (but hey, I'm a blogger, so taking pics is a must!!!)  Here is my first wrap (hey, not bad for wrapping left-handed!!!) and what I down graded to....along with the top view....but who uses that side of their middle finger anyways???

My paper towel and masking tape bandage.              What I eventually downgraded to....

View from the top. Ew. You're welcome.

Kitchen: 1. BlondieChell: 0,

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