The Brookston Family Blog

Okay, the day started out innocuously enough. Porter went to school. A steady gentle rain made the day wet, but oddly quiet. Alice went down for her morning nap easily. Around eleven I felt hungry and decided on some cheese. Unfortunately, my favorite cheese knife, the Henckels I got when I was in Germany on a beer trip a fews ago, was in the dishwater ... still dirty as I hadn't run it last night. No problem, I thought, as I reached in and pulled it out. I'll just wash it now. That was the last innocuous thought for the day. As I was moving it to the sink it slipped from my hand. I'd like to say it was all slo-mo from there but the fact is it happened so quickly there was no time to react or do anything it all. The knife fell to the ground, but made no sound. That's because it landed point down in the top of my unshod foot. I felt a small prick and the knife fell to the ground and I bent to pick it up. As I reached the knife, I noticed that my previously white sock now had a red circle of blood on it. And it was getting bigger. I pulled off my sock to find a little gash in my foot that was pouring out blood. I limped up to the bathroom and tried to stop the bleeding. That proved more difficult than I thought it should have been. I managed to slow it and put a large bandage over the wound. I limped to the phone and called my in-laws. Porter was due home in less than an hour and I was going to need help once Alice woke up. Happily, they said they could be there pretty quickly. By now the bandage, however, was filling with blood. I limped back to the bathroom and ripped it off. It was, indeed, covered in blood, as was the bathtub, sink and my hands. The room was quickly turning into a house of horrors as I fumbled around trying to stop the bleeding. I was starting to worry that I would go into shock - not so much from the amount of blood (it probably wasn't that much) but from the perception of it being everywhere I was feeling a little light-headed. Everything I touched was stamped red. Finally, about 45 minutes later, through applying pressure and lying on the floor wih my foot elevated, I got it to stop. I lay there for about twenty minutes until I had no choice but to hobble downstairs and outside to wait for Porter's bus to arrive. I'm sure the bus driver didn't know what to think as I stood there wearing only one shoe and not moving down the hill, closer to the bus, but I was afraid putting pressure on the foot climbing the hill again would start it flowing once more. Finally, the Calvary in the guise of Sarah's folks arrived and Lyman watched the kids and Ruthanne drove me to Urgent Care. Happily no stitches were necessary (apparently they don't stich less than 2 cm wounds anymore) and an x-ray confirmed that the knife missed all the bones. Instead, they cleaned the wound and then glued it shut with what looked an awful lot like crazy glue. I got another tetnus shot and was told to keep off of the foot for a few days as much as possible. I also got a prescription for Vicodin, which incensed Sarah. Apparently for childbirth she got Tylenol whereas a little cut to the foot and I got Vicodin. Didn't seem fair to her. What can I say. No matter how you slice it, I've had better days.