Last Saturday, I was slicing an onion. Part was for my Super Nachos, and part was for Farmer H's tacos. I'm not a sous chef, but I know how to cut an onion. And the cheese, as well! My fingers were not in any danger. I didn't think my left thumb was, either. But it was. This was a BIG onion. I had cut it in half, taken off the outer layer, then laid it on the flat side for slicing, then dicing. I was over half-way done with the first half when it happened. The blade of the longer-than-usual knife went through my left thumb like butter! Only with butter, or even margarine, you don't have that moment of shock, waiting for the pain to strike.
Oh, I KNEW I was in trouble. Sweet Gummi Mary! I could feel the textural difference in the knife, even, went it went from onion to thumb. I immediately laid down the knife and turned to the sink. Let that cold water run over my thumb. Big mistake. It hurt like the dickens. Or like an emmer-effer, for those who are wont to swear. Bright red blood rushed out. Which was a signal for me to immediately clamp my index finger on the end of that thumb. Hold the flap on. Stop letting that stream of water get inside the thumb's crevice.
I felt better at once. The blood ceased to flow, and the pain abated. I pretended all was well. My cut was resealed, the flow of my life force was stoppered. In my mind. I found a
Little did I know that later that evening, the sterile adhesive strip would show evidence of a new rupture. Probably as a result of me grabbing the edge of the bathroom counter to assist rising from the...um...throne. This was apparently a deeper cut than I had first imagined. Oh, you might think that it was nothing. Unless it was on YOUR thumb.
Sure. Everything looks under control after 15 minutes of continued pressure with a paper towel. Nothing to see here. Healing already. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's index finger is the next skin glue.
But once you think it's under control, and jostle it just a bit, or grasp something with it, that index finger glue loses its adhesive properties.
Quite an awkward spot to almost amputate one's own thumb. And I'm not talking about the kitchen. Such an injury makes one feel positively unprimatelike!
By Tuesday, my thumb was on the mend. But I still kept it covered 23.99 hours a day. So as not to peel back the skin that was sure to die.
Do you know how many things are hard to do without the use of one's left thumb?
Pulling pants up and down
Popping the lid off a bubba cup of ice
Popping the lid off a bubba cup of water
Slicing foodstuffs for meals for yourself or others
Blowing your nose if you always use your left hand for it
Lifting the lid off a 44 oz Diet Coke to add Cherry Limeade powder
Washing your hair
Typing on a keyboard
Switching channels with a remote control
Fast-forwarding DVR programs with a remote control
Opening an individually wrapped Ghiardelli snack chocolate
Opening an individual 4-pack of cheese/peanut butter crackers
Fastening hooks on your bra
Taking the lid off a toothpaste tube
Pulling open the cellophane bag inside a box of Corn Chex
Pulling open the cellophane bag inside a box of Rice Chex
Pulling open the cellophane bag inside a box of Cheerios
Opening a bag of stick pretzels
Opening a bag of twist pretzels
Cracking open an egg. Three times (different eggs)
I'm sure there are more, but since I'm healing now, without pain, the disadvantages fade. Let the record show that part of my thumb is irrevocably damaged, and is now trying to slough itself off. It peels back and leaves a gaping trench, with the top layer getting caught on everything you could imagine.
It's been a week now. I've a good mind to find some scissors and trim that top layer of epidermis away. The only thing that stops me is the fear that I will cut my thumb.