Battle Wounds

Warning:  This post contains graphic/gross pictures.  Proceed at your own risk



Setting the scene:

We do most of our cooking on Sundays, and then eat a lot of leftovers during the week because it's easier and saves time.  By Thursday, I am usually getting sick of whatever we've been eating.  This week, I decided to mix things up a bit.  We had some left over potatoes, extra ham and cheese - it seemed like a perfect opportunity to try out Brandon's new mandoline vegetable slicer.  Cheesy scalloped potatoes!  I started the cheese sauce on the stove, peeled my potatoes and cubed the ham.  Then I pulled out the mandolin slicer and began slicing away at the potatoes.  I soon discovered that starting the potatoes with the plastic safety guard in place was difficult (can you see where this is going?).  It was easier to start the first few slices holding the potato until one end was flat.  Well, I got going too fast and forget to stop and put the plastic guard in place, and, well...

.........

>>>>>>>

.........

**suspense**

.........

>>>>>>>

..........

Your finger is not supposed to be flat on top like that

I sliced the top of my finger right off.  It sort felt like a pinch, and at first I just stared at it, trying to comprehend what had just happened.  Then it started bleeding.  A lot.  I ran to the sink and put my finger under the facet.  The water quickly ran red.  I switched plans and grabbed a paper towel.  Apply pressure, elevate, feeling woozy - lie down on the couch.  Where is Brandon!?!  After lying there for a while, and trying Brandon's phone with no luck (he was likely on his bike on his way home at that point), I decided to investigate.  I didn't yet feel up to looking at my finger, but I went back to the scene of the crime and located my finger tip.  It was about the size of a pea, and included a piece of my finger nail.  It didn't seem like a salvagable piece, so I decided there was no need for a trip to the ER.  This decision was aided by the fact that we were in the middle of the first snow storm of the season, and there were at least three cars struggling to get up the hill on our little cul-de-sac (which is private property that the city does not plow).  I didn't really feel like leaving the house.  Brandon made it home and assessed the damage.  Looking at it made me feel nauseous, but by then it seemed to have stopped bleeding.  We wrapped it up good, and then Brandon finished making the potatoes.  They were delicious.

Sorry for the nasty, crusted blood around the wound

These photos are two days post-injury

Brandon's reaction (after he realized I was going to be okay):  Too bad you didn't get that nasty bump, too.  He thinks my writing callous is gross.  I'm glad I didn't get that far down the finger.  That might have posed some serious issues and definitely warranted a trip to the ER.