In Stitches

Literally, I mean. I'm not laughing.

This weekend, we invited Shawn & Mindy (and those beautiful girls of theirs) to dinner. It had been a really long time since we'd hung out with just them, and I was really excited about it. We decided to break out the grill and pretend it was summer - playing outside, eating burgers, brauts, the works. Mmm. They showed up around 6:30pm, and we fired up the grill. We still needed to prepare the veggie toppings (tomatoes, lettuce, onion... that sort of thing), so I got started on that.

Backtrack a second: My mom recently moved up here (which has been really nice), and she was going through her stuff and found some things she no longer needed/wanted. She offered them to me before they went to DI. Among these things was a Pampered Chef kitchen mandolin - a slicer, and a nice one at that. I was pretty excited as I've wanted one of these for a while. She told me I could have it as long as I promised to always use the protective guard - you know, the thing that prevents someone from lopping off their fingertips. I promised.

I lied.

I'm sure you can put A and B together. Part C is as follows:

I sliced the tomatoes. And they were beautiful... perfect, uniform slices. I got out the red onion and began to slice. I was careful to watch for my fingertips. But apparently I forgot to watch out for my palm.

I sliced it. Pretty badly. A big ol' chunk nearly ripped clean off (icky, I know). I pulled back, swore a lot (sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t... repeat... yeah, luckily the kids were outside playing), and went white (so Mindy tells me). I was mostly irritated with myself for ruining the evening. And, you know, for being such an idiot.

In the end, Mindy doctored me up (so sweet; love that girl!) and I sat down to regain the color in my face while they ate a bit of dinner at my insistence. Then Mindy took me to the ER, and Shawn and Derek stayed to hang out and watch the kids.

I felt really stupid going to the ER. I mean, really- I wasn't about to DIE or anything! But the doctor thought it was wise that I had, and I ended up getting stitches- six of them. The stitches weren't so bad, since I was numbed up by that point. But MY GOSH! The anesthetic shot the doc gave me hurt like MAD! It felt like he was pouring acid on my BONES! Dramatic? Yes. Honest? You betcha.

Owie.

So now I have a huge ol' gauze wrap on my right hand. I'm pretty much an invalid. Derek has to shampoo my hair... and shave my left armpit. (That's love, I tell ya!) In a few days, I can get my hand wet. That will help things out a ton. In the meantime, don't judge me if my hair looks a little skewampus. I'm trying...

I promise.

*Note: The following images are gross.*

Don't say I didn't warn you.