November 12, 2007 at 1:50 PM
My sister, a nurse, at whose house we were making dinner, bought the unconcerned act and ambled off to fetch the medical kit. As I waited, clutching my finger, my brain whirred. There was no tip lying amid the half-chopped tomatoes. This was good news. It meant I had not fully cut off my finger tip, and that most likely it was still attached and flapping around, the digital equivalent of Nearly Headless Nick of Harry Potter fame. How much flappage we were talking, I didn’t know. I didn’t have the nerve to look.
My sister reappeared, cheerfully pried my finger clamp off the wound and directed the maimed finger beneath the stream of water. “And then we squeeze the cut, letting some blood out to sort of clean it out,” she sang out and I panicked like a child, not wanting to see how easily it flowed out, just how deep it was. “And then some antiseptic soap, and then dry…” She proceeded and finally taped on a bandage, which, within seconds, bloomed red at the tip.
“Um,” I quavered, “I think I need another one. Maybe two.”
The finger throbbed all night long. And that scared me, in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time, a raw, gut-churning fear that I’d really messed up this finger I’d been taking for granted. How bad I’d messed it up, I still didn’t know. The bandages were fabric, a super-grippy hospital type, not worth prying off to assess the damage. I could only wait till the next afternoon, when I attempted to practice on the violin.
Long story short. I could play, albeit awkwardly. The first attempt to apply pressure on a string had me yelping in pain, but then I realized if I angled my pressure point to the right side of the fingertip, I could still play. Not well. Quite clumsily, in fact. But I could play.
When I pulled off the bandage finally to inspect the cut, it scared me all over again. The knife had indeed gone deep and yes, there was a flap of nearly detached skin. But oh, how very lucky I was to have that skin still attached. I have two friends who’d sliced off their tips and had to get skin grafts from their thigh to recreate a tip, and to this day they struggle with loss of sensitivity there. (Nadja S-S also had a tip chopping-off episode that challenged her career.) How very lucky I was.
Lucky, or irredeemably careless? It doesn’t matter anymore. The fingertip is now healing, slowly but surely. When I apply pressure at the wrong angle, the pain shooting through the tender new skin is like a slap on the hand. A small price to pay, I realize. What, I can’t help but wonder, would my practice be like if the knife had landed just a fraction of an inch further to the right? Or if the flap of skin had come off completely?
Lucky me. I still get to practice. And I’m here to tell you, I won’t be taking that for granted any time soon.
Freaky - that's it. Just a really scary feeling to slice yourself.
Your story, while frightening to all of us fiddlers (I too have lopped off skin while chopping), is incredibly beautifully written...waiting for the next installment in the violinist's adventures!
Sam
I was chopping up a whole bunch of green peppers and onions yesterday, and I was being extra-paranoid about injury, as usual. No damage, just the usual onion-induced weeping.
Get Well Soon!
And Anne - just looked up that movie/video on Amazon. Wow, I'd never heard of it before. It sounds a little depressing, though, yes? For others who want to see what she's talking about, here's the link here.
>I'll try and be super careful. Rather like going to sleep with a light turned on after watching a scary movie...
: )
Yes, the event and its aftermath was chronicled in that Speaking in Strings documentary. I must say, that scene played in my head right away after my own slicing episode. And now Anne has given me another scene to seek out. Oh, Anne, do we have to watch it? I'm squeamish, am I going to want to shut my eyes? I must say, now I'm really curious about that movie.
And to those who favor dull knives over sharp ones...my experience has been that dull knives are *way* more dangerous than a good sharp one. You can actually control a sharp knife, whereas a dull one can slip and slide, and you'll need to use way more force. So, keep 'em sharp!
As an aside, I just heard a funny cooking demonstration with Joshua Bell where he mentions that he tries “to stay away from knives…and cleaning up plates!” (More links here.)
Just not "this is the sharpest knife you'll ever use" sharp. : )
And Pauline, thanks for your well-wishes. Off I go to check Karl's links.
The only problem is that now I'm really really hungry now.
PS - Sydney and Karin, you'd love the Josh section of the program, I'm sure!
Thanks Terez! It'll be over 20 plus a bunch of kids. Should be fun. We could call it Thanksgiving actually, especially if my digits survive my 'sharpest-ever knives... :-)
We don't have the Thanksgiving holiday in Poland, we're doing it cos our church meets in a rented building and once or twice a year they have an exhibition so we can't use the building. So we meet in smaller groups in people's homes. Good opportunity to spend some time together, 'have church', have a good nosh up etc.
I'm off to watch the Joshua Bell thing. I like foodie stuff too ...
The great beyond; the place where even brave men fear to tread..... the Kitchen : )
> ...because the knife severs the surface nerves which transmit pain.
Oh, jeez, I was severing nerves in the process?! Oh man. I feel faint. Someone bring me the smelling salts. Or how about a shot of tequila?
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