I love potato pancakes. Kevin does not. On the rare occasions that Kevin isn't home for dinner, I will sometimes make them for myself. Monday evening, Kevin was away, so I decided to make my favorite dinner.
It was a late dinner, because I had gone shopping that afternoon.
I had two small pancakes cooked, and realized that they would be turning out better with butter.
No butter in my fridge. Hmmm, guess I'll have to get out the frozen butter.
I pulled out a knife. Why I used the largest knife in my drawer, I'm still not sure.
I just needed a bit. The knife slipped. Ouch! I grabbed my hands and stood staring at a deep cut. I stood and dripped blood for a minute, trying to figure out what to do.
Finally, I got a clean rag and wrapped it around my fingers, and decided that the best thing was to get help. I didn't want to drive myself to the emergency room, and even at that, I wasn't really sure where it was.
I rushed over to my next door neighbors, who welcomed me in, helped me decide I needed to get stitches, and even came back over to my house and cleaned up the blood all over the floor. I was so thankful for their help. They are two older ladies, sisters, that live together.
I left a note for Kevin and then they drove me to the emergency room. Kevin came about an hour after I'd been there. I had just gotten in a room when he arrived.
It was busy, and after the doctor numbed my fingers, he had a more pressing emergency. So he had to re-numb my fingers again.
After 6 stitches in my left ring finger, and 4 stitches in the middle finger, 2 and a half hours of mostly waiting, I finally was able to leave.
I don't think I'll ever attempt to cut frozen butter again. Live and learn!
I am so thankful that the injury wasn't worse, and that my neighbors were so helpful.