And Then I Burned Myself

I burned my arm on Sunday morning in a freak cooking accident. I was frying up Sunday dinner when I splashed hot grease all over my left forearm. I am now the proud owner of what my favorite GP promises me will be “a gnarly scar.” (Do people other than him still use the word gnarly? Somehow I don’t think so.)

It’s slightly bigger than the size of my hand. Half of it is covered by the largest blister I’ve ever seen in my life and the other half is the unmistakeable purple-brown color of a third degree burn. It looks awful and should be excruciatingly painful, but it isn’t. In fact, it doesn’t hurt at all.

The doctor took one look at it on Monday morning, and after gleefully declaring it to be the grossest thing he would see all week (and taking pictures for my record, and to show his kids who love gross stuff), he told me that I had damaged the nerves pretty well. He said that it was a grace that I had done so, or I would be writhing in pain. As it is now, it itches and looks nasty and the worst of it is the constant tingling in my fingers. It will heal, the nerves too, and I will be left with a scar that wraps almost all the way around my wrist.

As long as I can avoid infection, it will be fine. (Please don’t let those be famous last words…)

Accidents happen, and I’m really not too upset about this one except that it means I’ve lost my coping mechanisms for the next week or so. There are some evenings where I count the moments until I can close my bathroom door and slip into a hot bath. I bring a good book and watch the tendrils of steam rise around me. The house is quiet and everyone is in bed except the Computer Guy who takes that time to watch a little TV. I can’t get my arm wet until it heals a little more, so it’s hair washing in the sink and a bird bath for the rest of me. I’d have been okay with that as long as I still had the gym.

CrossFit has become my sanity. I can walk through the doors of the Box (what CrossFit people call the gym) and for the next hour or so things are simple – I pick up the weights and put them down, I jump on boxes, do pull ups, run, and just move. It seems so funny that I would find such peace in a place which is so loud, but for that one hour I can completely empty my mind of everything but the task at hand. The problem with gyms is that even the cleanest ones are dirty. They have germs everywhere, and I have a great big open wound on my arm…so I’ve been banned until further notice.

I’m looking for new ways to relax. I’d usually fall back on writing, but one handed typing is painfully slow. (You have no idea how long this post is taking….sheesh…)

So I’ve been reading a lot. I have a stack of books to get through, some fun and others with a purpose, and I’ve been plowing through them. I’m running short on novels, and would welcome a suggestion or two if you have a book or an author that you love.

Other than that I’ve been a lady of leisure. With cooking, dish washing, carrying heavy stuff, and anything that cold get my arm wet off the table (no scrubbing bathrooms! Hooray!!!) there’s not a whole lot to do but sit around, snuggle with kids, read, and watch a little TV myself. 

It’s strange to say, but it’s a welcome break in the face of the storm I’ve weathered for the past few months. We have big changes coming soon (that’s a post for another day….no, I’m not pregnant), and I’m using this time to make plans and figure out a few things.

I’m grateful beyond belief that it doesn’t hurt, and that I can find the silver lining so easily in this new cloud. This is one thing I know will end up all right.

But can we stop with the excitement now? I’m ready for all the drama to be in books. Which reminds me….what should I be reading for fun? I’m ready for a whole new stack of “must reads.”