JAM, I'm sorry to hear about your hand
How painful burns are! Unfortunately, I know this from lots of experience. For everyone's amusement and viewing pleasure, please allow me to catalog why I will never get to be a hand model:
The Pilsbury Biscuits Episode
Had just moved to New York, hadn't yet started my job so had no health insurance. Went grocery shopping and discovered when I unpacked the groceries that the cashier had apparently forgotten to pack someone's Pilsbury Biscuits in their bag and had put it in mine instead. Cool! Free biscuits! I tried to unpeel the canister but the paper came off and canister remained intact. Soooo, I got a
butter knife and sawed away at the sucker. Knife slipped, cut my left hand right above the knuckle on my pointer finger. $434.00 on my AmEx for the emergency room, 4 stitches and a nasty looking v shaped scar 11 years later!
The Popcorn Incident
Moved in with boyfriend --> husband. He was on the ship, I was home alone. I wanted popcorn but he didn't have a popcorn maker. I decided to use a pot. Trying to hold lid onto pot and shake at same time. Pot starts to fall to floor, stupid me tries to catch pot. Second degree burns to palm of my left hand. Once again caught between health insurance coverage; luckily boyfriend --> husband picked up doctor bill for me.
Painful Bike Ride
Not much to tell here; riding my bike after a rain one fall. Rode through a pile of leaves. Was very slick. Wiped out. Kickstand impaled me just to the left of my right shin. Very odd kickstand-shaped scar resulted.
Why 2 Year-Olds Shouldn't Have Scissors
One Sunday afternoon, we were returning from an outing and hubby wanted to stop into his office to pick up something. He was in there and so I set up my daughters at his secretary's desk to let them draw. I didn't notice the wicked huge scissors the secretary had in her pencil holder, but my 2 year-old did. She grapped them by the handle, one in each hand. Scared the sheet out of me, of course, so I grapped for them. She closed the wicked huge scissors over the tip of my right ring finger. I passed out, vaguely remember John carrying me to the car. Another emergency room trip ensued. Words simply cannot describe the pain involved. Vicodin is a wonderful drug. My finger is still kind of funky looking at the top.
Turkey Isn't Always Good for You
When cooking Thanksgiving dinner this past year, I was taking out the turkey and my hand brushed up against the top heating element of the oven. I have a hideous scar there about the size of a quarter.
And these are the injuries I can only think of off the top of my head. No wonder my childhood nickname was "Grace"; I simply don't HAVE any!
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