Last night, I decided to try out my fancy pants new mandolin slicer to make some yummy sweet potato chips. This is really the sole reason I wanted the slicer. I can never seem to slice sweet potatoes thinly enough, and I thought it would be a fun gadget.
It was. Until I sliced off the top of my pinky.
Safe to say I was in a bit of shock. My main concerns included turning the oven off, putting away the garlic, and telling Bug that Mommy was okay, Mommy was okay. All the while I tried not to look at the missing piece of my finger and pay little attention to the fact that blood was gushing all over the place.
Matt's Dad came over to watch Bug and Matt and I got in the car. Then I just let loose. F bombs galore, lots of tears, and ridiculous statements about how "I can't even carry Bug anymore, can't even carry the laundry up the stairs, and now I can't even make a nice dinner." I was, moreover, furious with myself for being so freaking stupid and not paying attention to what I was doing. It was serious enough that I was really scared. I actually wondered if I could still play the piano as well.
Thankfully, I didn't hit bones or any nerves. I was in and out of the ER in about 30 minutes--I guess it pays to be a bleeder! I should be okay in 7-10 days, and I'm getting pretty good at typing with 9 fingers and becoming a de facto lefty for a few days.
I've been doing a pretty good job taking things day by day lately. In some ways, this pregnancy is so much easier that way. I know now that I won't be two tons forever, that the races will be there when I'm ready, and that I might even get faster. But believe me...I have my moments.
Like when the nurse accidentally told me my weight last week. Despite the huge "DO NOT TELL" warning on my file. They might as well put, "ABSOLUTE FREAKING HEADCASE--SERIOUSLY, DON'T GO THERE" on it. But she did. And I heard.
And I freaked.
Pretty much the same as before. Which, after a few tears and yes, a few f-bombs alone in my car, makes sense. My body is just going to do what it needs to do. I. have. little. control. over. that.
It doesn't mean I'm doing things wrong. It just means I'm doing what I need to do. Sometimes that means being creative. Although, true creativity doesn't involve missing pinkies usually, but whatever.
Luckily, I got most of my school work done pre-pinky incident, so I can relax and enjoy this last day off here. I also planned most of my lessons until Friday, February 12th, which will be the last day if I don't go early (which it looks like I will definitely avoid a 39-week induction--YAY!). With a week of midterm exams and a teacher work day in there, that left me with--at MOST--23 days of lessons.
23 days. I can handle that.
Then it's off for 12 weeks, and finishing off a few weeks at the end doing my favorite lessons of the year anyway.
I can do this. Even if I screw up, I can do this.
And hopefully my screw-ups won't involve any more missing digits.