(Or, The Unfortunate Cheese Incident)
Sunday morning I was slicing up some Tillamook Cheddar for the night’s burgers. I reached the tail end of the brick, and turned the last bit flat to slice it in half. Cheddar’s on the harder side, and those Cutco knives are on the sharper side. I was a bit too exuberant with my slicing, and it turns out my finger wanted to join the party.
Cut to scene where I’m on the kitchen floor holding my finger with a paper towel and M is telling me that it’ll be fine and some good pressure will stop the bleeding.
Anyways, band-aid applied, and we’re off to breakfast, because, as we all know, bacon makes it better.
Well, the bacon could only do so much, because the cheese-inflicted knife wound began bleeding again. More pressure. But by the time we reached the Tiburon ferry dock for Angel Island, it was really bleeding again.
Fortunately for me, they’d just held the annual RCP Tiburon Mile (congrats to all the swimmers!), and the race’s first aid tent was still up. Who better to address a not-so-good-at-the-sight-of-blood girl’s wound than the Red Crossstaff?!
They graciously sat me down, removed the oozy bandaid, and immediately told me I needed to go get stitches.
So after a clean bandage and another round of lying on the ground (I’m fond of this activity, clearly), we were off to the nearest hospital for said stitches.
6 of ’em. (Caution: Graphic imagery! Might wanna lie down down for it.)
Plus a tetanus shot. Why not? I was there. Captive audience, if you will.
Anyways. The giant I’m #1! bandage is off now, and in 7 days, the stitches will go their merry way. ‘Til then, I’m still #1, just with a normal bandaid.
P.S. The paramedic noted that it must’ve been a very sharp knife to leave such a clean cut. Well done, Cutco.