I have a crazy story. It’s not overwhelmingly crazy, just sort of “no way…” crazy.
My husband travels a fair amount for work. We always (half-) joke that every time he goes away, something bad is bound to happen. There is history there, but luckily most of the things that have gone awry in his absence have been pretty harmless.
He is currently in LA. For some reason, this morning I felt a particularly strong sense that “there’s not enough of me to go around” with the girls. Lil M was hungry and crying. Vi must have asked me 50,000 times to cut that huge green watermelon in the fridge. I had opted for a shower instead of breakfast and coffee before the girls got up, so I was grouchy myself. Everyone wanted something, including me.
So, I did what I always do. I hit fast-forward, trying to accommodate each and every need instead of stopping and focusing on one task at a time. I fluttered around the kitchen, putting out mini-fires. Oatmeal, check. Watermelon cut and sliced, check. Coffee, check. I was about to move on to the baby, when my hand bumped the very large knife I had been using to cut the watermelon and it slid off the counter. I jerked my foot out of the way, but unfortunately my reflexes had not had their coffee yet either. With a thunk, that very large knife met my foot on its way down.
I had this slight moment of panic, as I stared at my foot and felt the dizziness set in. What if I faint right now? What if my foot is seriously hurt? M continued to cry harder. From the other room, Vi pleaded for some water with her watermelon. I was totally overwhelmed in the moment and hobbled to the bathroom muttering to myself. I reached for a Micky Mouse band aid from the cabinet, despite knowing that it was no match for this wound. I was so unprepared.
I wound up wrapping my foot in a kitchen towel, and sitting on the floor to nurse M so that I wouldn’t drop her if I fainted as a result of the vasovagal reaction I was having. I turned on Dora while Violet ate breakfast naked because I just couldn’t handle getting her dressed in that moment. It was a bit touch and go.
I will spare you the rather dull story of how I spent the rest of the morning in the ER. Four stitches and a major foot-ache later, the whole scene was mostly just annoying.
Mostly. It was also a sobering reminder of what else could have happened. A tad to the right of the puncture is a major tendon. Obviously there are delicate toes nearby, which I would prefer to keep. …As my husband described it, it turned the volume down on all the small situations that were stressing me out this morning. It sucked things into perspective so fast that my head swam.
When I feel that sense of can’t keep up, I need to slow down. It is in that fast-forward mode that accidents happen. I have learned this before, but I am reminded once again of the importance of taking a pause, a deep breath. Perhaps tell someone (unless it’s a baby) to please wait a few more minutes.
Oh and yes, that is my poor foot pictured above!