When I started blogging two years ago I vowed to post something here every Thursday without fail, and no matter what the circumstances I’ve kept that promise to myself.
This morning, as I was preparing breakfast for my daughters, I clumsily cut my finger with the breadknife.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I take blood-thinning medication, the cut wouldn’t have been much of an issue because it was small, albeit deep. As it was, blood gushed from my wounded finger, my vision blurred as the room started spinning uncontrollably.
“I’m fainting,” I whispered to my husband who’d just come into the kitchen.
“No, you’re not,” came his answer as he hurried to stem the blood, “but you’ve probably cut off a nerve ending, which is why it hurts so much.”
A few hours later, and with an industrial-strength combination of painkillers in my system, I managed to get myself out of bed and into the shower, but I am still feeling the throbbing pain in my finger and my nausea refuses to settle.
The blog post I’d planned for today will have to wait until my head stops spinning.
Suffice to say, I’ll be staying away from the kitchen knives for a while.