On Friday morning, I got out of bed thinking of a nice warm, sliced, toasted bagel with almond milk cream cheese. So, I went to the kitchen and washed the blue filet knife that I always use to cut bagels and began preparing my breakfast. Except this time when I cut the bagel in half, I was half asleep, and the knife went through the bagel and into my left palm. Filet knife in the palm. Not good.
I looked down and saw more than just my skin cut. I saw fatty tissue and other things that I knew I shouldn’t be seeing. So, I grabbed a paper towel, pressed it into my palm with pressure, made a fist, and held it above my head. Then, I couldn’t decided what to do. I kept taking peeks at the wound, asking myself if I needed stitches, and telling myself to breathe. I walked upstairs to my room, back down to the kitchen, and then back up to the bathroom where my roommate was getting ready for work. “Kelly, do you think I need stitches?” Her reply? “Yes, yes yes!”
So, we got in her car and started driving to the only urgent care clinic that appeared in my Golden, CO, Google search. They didn’t open until 1PM. It was eight in the morning. Next option? The Lakewood Hospital Emergency Room fifteen minutes away. I ate half of the untoasted, naked bagel I had just cut on the way to the ER. What could I do? I was hungry, and it was still a good, clean bagel.
Everything went pretty quickly. The pain of the injections to numb the wound was incredibly intense, but started subsiding three shots later. I could not watch the shots, but I watched everything else, including the stitches – two of which I felt every poke and pull.
I’m typing this with only my right hand because typing with my left hand pulls too much on the six stitches holding my inch-and-a-half cut together. I know it will heal, but this is yet another practice in patience for me. At least I’m not alone. About 2000 people a year end up in the ER after BRI’s (Bagel-related Injuries), the Wall Street Journal had an article on it (click here to read). Be warned: bagels are dangerous, heartless breakfast beasts. You may be the one armed, but they are dangerous.
(Thanks to my roommate, Kelly, for taking me to the ER and for taking pictures!)
UPDATE: Pictures of healing…it took a month, but I’m finally getting back to normal! God made some amazing healing bodies. Here are pictures of the process.