Broken Glass, Blood and Band-Aids

I’m accident-prone.  Ok, I admitted it out loud.  Most everyone that knows me is probably shaking his or her head in agreement right now.  If you don’t know me then keep reading the blog for a few weeks and you’ll catch on really fast.  This middle-aged body has scars that if they could talk would be; first of all, just plain gross but second of all would tell great, funny stories.  I bring this subject up today because I have done a lot of typing and have had to hit the keys with my one finger that I sliced open yesterday on broken glass from the drain in our kitchen sink.  It started out so normal.  I had opened the cupboard.  It all went downhill from there when the domino affect began:  the bowl on the top shelf shifted, hit a glass, knocked it into the sink on top of a plate, broke the glass and the plate.  Of course I was careful to get all of the pieces so that no one would get hurt.  And as we all know the drains in sinks can catch the icky nasty stuff that somehow gets in there as well, apparently, as broken glass.  I suppose it didn’t help that I ran my finger around the drain itself to get it all out.  When I felt the pain I knew right away what it was.  Blood trickled down as I once again had to yell for my 14 year old daughter who is always on hand with Neosporin and a Band-Aid.  The neat thing is that all I have to do is yell, “Emily, I need help again.”  And she knows what to grab and how fast to come.  It’s almost like it wasn’t the first time.

I could understand someone who occasionally hurts themselves but to do it on a daily basis gets really old after awhile.  The previous day I was cutting cardboard with a razor blade and yep, you guessed it, I sliced open one of my other fingers.  I ran into the house yelling for that help from my girl and tripped over the dog barrier that we have up between rooms, dripping blood on the floor as my body lunged forward while my toe stayed clinging to the barrier.  Ouch!  It’s almost like a scene from a sitcom.  My family just stares and can’t help but laugh at me. I just let them because it all seems just so unbelievable these things that happen to me.

We bought a house right across from the hospital and medical care facility in town.  My husband likes to tell me that it may not be by accident that we did that.  You see when I wind up in ER (like I have more than once) it will be much easier for my family to come check in on me.  The accidents of this past week didn’t involve any stitches, x-rays or an ER visit but it did remind me that even in the most simple of life’s tasks I have to be on high alert…and have my little girl on speed dial ready to rush to me with the bandages.