Monday, January 14, 2008

I Squeam, You May Not Squeam

Zach had a small household mishap this evening involving a mandoline (the kitchen tool) and the tip of his right ring finger.

He was the one who was hurt.

He was the one in pain.

He was the one bleeding (not profusely, thankfully).

Yet I had a near breakdown.

I'm not sure if it was the mental image of the mishap (I didn't witness it, fortunately), or the yelp he let out a split-second after impact, or the momentary prospect of visiting yet another emergency room.

Whatever it was, it incapacitated me for several minutes.

I had to sit down for fear that I might faint.

I burst into tears.

I fumbled through our first-aid supplies in something like a state of shock. Zach—aka the injured party—had to talk me through opening up gauze packages and tearing off strips of adhesive tape.

If he had needed real medical attention, I have no doubt that I would have been able to snap out of it. I could have gotten us to the ER and dealt with everything that that entails.

But for whatever reason, for about 10 minutes I was laid out by some kind of acute PTSD.

I'm fine now. Just wiped out.

And somewhat bewildered by the whole experience.

1 Comments:

Blogger "heymarci" said...

Jody, I can totally relate to this and I hope Zach is okay. A few years ago, while cooking a meal that involved a lot of slicing, I lopped off the tip of my thumb off with a mandolin. That tool should require a license!
Hope all's well.
Ciao,m

January 17, 2008 1:20 PM  

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