The Hidden Dangers of Dieting.

Eating better was supposed to be good for my health.

Attempting to get a jump on the day, I stood at the counter at 7:30 Tuesday morning shredding lettuce. I prefer my lettuce shredded, not torn. I find torn lettuce quite bothersome as it does not fit neatly into a bowl, onto a fork, or into my mouth. I was deep in thought, contemplating the superiority of shredded lettuce when I heard little feet stomp into the kitchen.  I turned my head to see what the owner of the feet needed. The lettuce shifted. I continued shredding. Oh shit.

This is the embarrassing part where I was swearing in front of my child.

Never one to pick up on the obvious,  Nathan asked what happened. Between winces, I told him I cut myself. Blood was pouring out of a half inch wide by half inch deep gash I made in my thumb. I grabbed paper towels to apply pressure. Thankfully, the knife, lettuce, and cutting board were blood free because I would have been really pissed if I had ruined my lunch.

“Mommy, I was going to ask you for another show and more granola, please, but are you OK?”

“Thanks for asking, buddy. I’m fine. I’ll get your stuff but then I think I might need to go to the hospital.” I mentally patted myself on the back for remembering to praise him for his empathy.

I handed him the box of granola, queued up another Adventure Time,and went to find my husband.  Armed with a bandage and a towel, I found some shoes and headed for the door, but not before grabbing my coffee.  Yes, my coffee. Gaping hole in my hand or not, I need my coffee.

The child had already forgotten what happened and asked where I was going.  He was horrified to learn that I wouldn’t be able to walk him to school.  Apparently the empathy was fleeting.

After a 75 minute wait at the “urgent” care facility, I saw the nurse.  She asked if I thought I needed stitches.  I resisted the urge to respond that I was paying them to make that determination. She doused my wound with peroxide and betadine, then called me a wuss for saying it hurt. I eventually saw the doctor who informed me that she didn’t think I needed stitches, but she’d use the fancy steri-strips to close up my digit, then wrap it.

Another man, whom I assumed worked there, came into the room. He looked at my hand, sucked wind through his teeth, and said helpful things like, “Wow, that’s deep!” and “Oof, I bet that hurts!”  He shook his head a few times, too.   He asked how it happened and I told him I was making a salad.  He seemed genuinely surprised when he asked if I was a chef and I said that I was not.

The doctor jumped in.  “Was the knife rusty?”

Yes, I use a rusty knife to cut lettuce.  Doesn’t everyone?

The doctor performed a quick abdominal exam, mentioning that they make her do that for everyone who comes in. I was confused but I thanked her, because I have manners.

Relieved to finally be on my way, two long hours since the ordeal began, I thought about what I learned. My kid isn’t as egocentric as I thought, I would be wise to not find a reason to return to the urgent care facility, and I may want to look into the bagged lettuce for future salads.

Even though I’m injured, I’m joining my friends on the yeah write challenge grid.

25 Responses to “The Hidden Dangers of Dieting.”

  1. Wait. Why’d she check your abdomen? Weird.

  2. Kristin says:

    Botulism. She was checking for botulism.

  3. Considerer says:

    Ohhh dear a lot! Next time, superglue it yourself. I’ve done that before. Much easier, less stress, and you can get back to your salad straight away.

    • I really thought I needed stitches. It wouldn’t stop bleeding and it’s quite deep. But after putting pressure on it for over an hour, I was about to leave before I was even seen. I’m not one to seek medical attention unless I really think I need it, and even then I feel like the decision was hasty.

  4. Ah, DH is always telling me that when I’m in the kitchen, focus on the food. Glad to hear you’re okay.

  5. Joe says:

    I’ve done that too many times, not bad enough to go to the ER, but bad enough that I had to trash the salad when I couldn’t find the skin I sliced off.

  6. Stacie says:

    I’m surprised they didn’t give you a tetanus shot. I mean, rusty knife and all…

  7. what’s with the stomach check?? and with the woman asking if you needed stitches? uh, hello, doctor?
    i have a knife issue, but i use kitchen scissors to cut lettuce.

  8. Linda Roy says:

    What a nutty crew. The abdominal check? Were they checking for BSD? (Bad Salad Disease) Just in case the lettuce had become tainted? Sheesh. And I love it when they ask you what you think they should do. Kudos to you for being such a patient patient.

  9. Cindy Reed says:

    Yeah, that abdominal check is pretty sketchy. I love that you thanked them for it anyway.

  10. You grabbed your coffee while bleeding profusely: makes perfect sense to me. And totally weird, the impromptu abdominal exam…
    Glad you’re okay. 😉

  11. Pam Moore says:

    Great story. I mean good writing, crappy that you cut yourself. I love your priorities, grabbing the coffee first. I would have done the same:)

  12. Twindaddy says:

    An abdominal check for a sliced finger seems perfectly normal to me. What’s the issue here?

  13. I would have grabbed the coffee too. How else to survive the inevitable, interminable wait in urgent care?

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