Sunday, June 18, 2017

I’ve Been Making Guacamole for Decades, and I Still Don’t Know My Way Around an Avocado

It happens so often, they call it avocado hand. You’re holding an avocado in one hand and a sharp knife in the other. Yep. The knife may or may not slice the avocado, but it surely ends up slicing the hand.

In my case, I grabbed a pointed butcher knife to stab the stubborn pit. It wouldn’t come out, so I stabbed it harder. The butcher knife slid to the side of the pit, through the avocado, and deep into the crease of my middle finger where the finger attaches to my hand. I knew immediately that I had done something terrible; this was no nick. After running cold water over the laceration that was pumping? pouring? gushing? blood, I forced myself to turn my trembling hand over to see if the knife had punctured all the way through. Phew, it hadn’t. I grabbed a clean dish towel to press into my bleeding hand and began the fun all-day process of visiting the urgent care clinic . . . and . . .
• getting jabbed with a tetanus shot, because I couldn’t remember when I received my most recent vaccination,
• being sent over to a hand specialist due to the deepness of the cut and its tricky location,
• having my hand x-rayed,
• getting my hand numbed (holy crud, that shot hurt worse than the original stabbing),
• receiving the bad news that the very weird numbness in my finger was most likely due to severed nerves,
• hearing the good news that the tendon wasn’t severed,
• and receiving 3 stitches sutures.
• Oh, and then getting my left hand placed in a soft cast, wrapped snugly so my finger will stay immobilized for two weeks.
Did I mention that my wedding band had to be cut off? Swollen fingers and whatnot.

I will spare you the “before" picture; this is the “week after." Stitches come out in two days.

Dinner last night: french dip sandwich

Exactly 5 years ago:

Exactly 7 years ago:

Exactly 9 years ago:

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