|Before: In desperate need of some TLC|
However, instead of helping, as planned, I spent the afternoon on the couch, in and out of consciousness (okay, that's only because I fell asleep) and nursing a wounded hand. It sounds weak and pathetic, but I swear I would never stick my hand in the path of a hedge trimmer just to get out of yard work.
Yes, while noisily humming away, the trimmer made contact with the top side of my hand. I was pleasantly surprised to find that, while sharp and dangerous, the trimmer did not maim me, just caused a mere flesh wound. A major relief being on this side of the accident. In all seriousness, it does not bleed much and although seems really deep, I am fairly certain it doesn't need stitches. (Pretty sure I'm in the clear, but I don't know when a doctor recommends stitches. Any ideas?)
|The Offending Tool|
I have discovered, not that there was ever any question, that I could never be a doctor or nurse. Every time I look at or clean the cut I am overcome with feelings of nausea and light-headedness. Adam rushes me to the couch where I can safely be on my back with my feet up.
Hence my afternoon spent in and out of napping.
|You didn't think I'd provide a picture of the actual wound, did you?|
Adam, for his part, feels terrible. And, mostly because it's not his fault at all, I feel terribly dumb.
On the plus side, I did get out of doing the dreaded hedge trimming. And, although my hand and arm feel weak, there's definitely enough strength to be typing and on the computer. (Whew!)
|After: Didn't Adam do a beautiful job?|
While not exactly how I planned to spend the day, I am relieved it was nothing too serious, and simultaneously hanging my head in shame and embarrassment. Kids, be careful around power tools. Grownups, that goes for you too.
PS. Happy Memorial Day to all! Remembering especially those service men and women who have died.