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I stayed home sick from work today. I have felt like death all day. My throat is sore and I care barely speak, just croak. My head hurts and my eyes sting. My nose runs like a faucet and the skin around it is starting to chafe and burn.
I haven't been able to move around much and it frustrates me. Tudor went out to get groceries and to take the dog to the park this afternoon and I really wanted to go with him but it hurt too much and I didn't think my sick body could take it. I stayed home and attempted to get dinner ready instead. We were having spaghetti amatriciana and I needed to chop a hell of a lot of onion.
I sharpened my knife and set up the chopping board on the table by the couch where I'd been stationed all day. I had one of the Lord of the Rings movies on to keep me company. I started to feel useful and productive as I chopped up one huge onion at the table, it was the most productive thing I'd done all day. I don't mind chopping onions, so this was good. Chopping them while sick though was a little more of a challenge. I felt a little dizzy and my head hurt and the onions successfully started to unclog my sinuses. I wiped my nose with my sleeves, sniffled, and kept on chopping. I was nearly halfway through before:
*sl-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-c-c-c-e*
The freshly sharpened knife zipped right through the tip of my thumb, vertically, from the fleshy fingertip to the edge of the nail. I paused, dropped the knife, looked at the thumb in disbelief and then ran to the sink as I saw the blood starting to drip out and start to run down my hand.
That little thumb bled like a son of a bitch. I stood over the sink running cold water over it to try to make the bleeding stop until I started to feel faint and had to kneel on the floor with a paper towel over the tip applying pressure to the wound. The bleeding just wouldn't stop, even after several minutes, and I kept feeling weaker and weaker. I've been sick all day and haven't been able to eat much or move and cutting myself was probably not a good thing in my already weakened state. I went through several stages of standing up and running water over the thumb until I felt ready to pass out and kneeling on the floor with the paper towels as the pain started to worsen.
Tudor walked in with the dog as I was doing my third or fourth round under the cold water. He saw me, and then saw the bloody paper towels. His reaction to the scene? The very first thing that came out of his mouth?
"WHY aren't you more CAREFUL??? You ALWAYS do this!"
I was too weak to punch him, so I just started bawling instead. Yep, that's my boyfriend. The man I live with. Sometimes, he does not think before he speaks.
I haven't been able to move around much and it frustrates me. Tudor went out to get groceries and to take the dog to the park this afternoon and I really wanted to go with him but it hurt too much and I didn't think my sick body could take it. I stayed home and attempted to get dinner ready instead. We were having spaghetti amatriciana and I needed to chop a hell of a lot of onion.
I sharpened my knife and set up the chopping board on the table by the couch where I'd been stationed all day. I had one of the Lord of the Rings movies on to keep me company. I started to feel useful and productive as I chopped up one huge onion at the table, it was the most productive thing I'd done all day. I don't mind chopping onions, so this was good. Chopping them while sick though was a little more of a challenge. I felt a little dizzy and my head hurt and the onions successfully started to unclog my sinuses. I wiped my nose with my sleeves, sniffled, and kept on chopping. I was nearly halfway through before:
*sl-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-c-c-c-e*
The freshly sharpened knife zipped right through the tip of my thumb, vertically, from the fleshy fingertip to the edge of the nail. I paused, dropped the knife, looked at the thumb in disbelief and then ran to the sink as I saw the blood starting to drip out and start to run down my hand.
That little thumb bled like a son of a bitch. I stood over the sink running cold water over it to try to make the bleeding stop until I started to feel faint and had to kneel on the floor with a paper towel over the tip applying pressure to the wound. The bleeding just wouldn't stop, even after several minutes, and I kept feeling weaker and weaker. I've been sick all day and haven't been able to eat much or move and cutting myself was probably not a good thing in my already weakened state. I went through several stages of standing up and running water over the thumb until I felt ready to pass out and kneeling on the floor with the paper towels as the pain started to worsen.
Tudor walked in with the dog as I was doing my third or fourth round under the cold water. He saw me, and then saw the bloody paper towels. His reaction to the scene? The very first thing that came out of his mouth?
"WHY aren't you more CAREFUL??? You ALWAYS do this!"
I was too weak to punch him, so I just started bawling instead. Yep, that's my boyfriend. The man I live with. Sometimes, he does not think before he speaks.
