Whoops...

Pork sausage: done. Green bell pepper: done. White onion: almost done. Yesterday presumed to be a normal day... school, errands, meals, etc. As I was preparing breakfast tacos for dinner, I made a whoopsies and nearly sliced off half of my thumb tip with a butcher knife. I saw blood spilling out of my thumb so I put it under water for a few seconds before taking a second look. I expected to see a surface cut, but when I looked down there was way too much blood and so I knew I had to go to the hospital. Omar came home a few minutes later and then he took me to the hospital, but not before I placed all the cut meats and veggies in the fridge (duh).

The wait time was surprisingly short, albeit they recorded on my wristband and file that I was a female smoker. From the moment I walked in holding my thumb in toilet paper to when I left $100 poorer and with a red bandage wrapped around my finger, about an hour had passed by. Not bad.

I left with 4 stitches and a prescription for antibiotics and pain killers. Pain killers. That's a funny term, isn't it? Killing usually implies pain. Throughout this ordeal, Omar's iPhone 4 captured before-and-after pictures as well as the stitches video. I did not realize the depth or severity of the cut until the Doc pulled back the fleshy tip to clean the wound... I haven't seen the video yet, but hopefully it shows it nice 'n gruesome.

All details aside... why did God want me to experience this? I can immediately think of two reasons: 1) stop biting/picking my fingernails. If I would've had a normal thumb nail, my thumb tip would be in pristine condition under a trusting and sturdy nail. 2) remind me to calm down. The second one is less certain, but I think it applies. It was only the 2nd day of school and I was already fretting over the homework, law school applications, etc. I tend to over-think, over-worry, and exaggerate the amount of items I need to get done. With this impaired thumb, typing is a bit more troublesome and just doing everyday things altogether is more of a hassle. Perhaps this is God's way of telling me, "LEAVE YO NAILS ALONE!" and "CHILL OUT!!!". I'd like to believe those are the lessons I'm being taught, mayhaps there's more?

Oh, I suppose another lesson is this: finish what you started. I finally got home a couple hours later, by this time starving and pondering about life lessons. I ended up cooking those breakfast tacos I first set out to make two hours prior. I left the onions out -- but it was still delicious.

This picture, however, isn't so delectable: