I am not a huge NYE gal, sparkles and Times Square have never been a part of my celebration. For a long time, having a slumber party for my girls was my favorite thing to do. I always wondered, what would it be like to go to downtown Chicago? And finally the year came. All the girls were grown and were not going to be home that night. My Hubs and I were free as birds and we made reservations DOWNTOWN at Joe’s Seafood, Prime Steak and Stone Crab. I even bought a fancy blouse, woo hoo, night on the town.
NYE day I was up in my sewing room feeling happy and cutting out strips for a new quilt. I was so excited and as a result I was not cutting with the greatest of care. ZIP there went a good chunk of my left hand pointer finger.
I looked down at my finger in disbelief and may have uttered some exclamatory remarks. I wrapped it in Kleenex and called out to my husband, telling him I had cut off part of my finger.
I then came down the stairs, bloody stump and all. (It wasn’t a stump but it just sounds good so go with me.)
He tried to staunch the bleeding but all we did was create a mess of the kitchen. We put ice on it and I started crying. I can’t help it, I am a weeper.
Oh no, we were going to spend New Year’s Eve at the Urgent Care and miss our reservation. We arrived and I tearfully trudged up to the desk.
The nurse looked at me and the bloody mound of paper towel as my husband handed over the medical information, a pledge to turn over our first born and several credit cards just in case.
“What happened” she queried.
“I had a quilting accident on New Year’s Eve” I moaned a bit piteously.
“A quilting accident?” she repeated as the corners of her mouth twitched a bit. She called to the back, “Get the doctor, we’ve got a quilting accident.” I give her credit, she did it all with a straight face.
The doctor met me at the door of the examining room and everyone working there seemed to find an excuse to saunter into the room. At this point I was feeling extremely popular and knew that even though these people had to work on NYE, they had a great story to tell when they got off.
I got some shots, a whole mess of stitches and by a whole mess I mean at least 4. Possibly 5. Maybe 3?
As I was leaving the doctor said to me, “Be careful out there, Ms. Quilter.”
He closed his eyes and shuddered a bit. My sweetie and I ran home, got dressed and even made our reservations.
Did I mention they were downtown?
And since I’m right handed, it didn’t even prevent me from enjoying my elegant and delicious meal.
An accident free record since then makes me Sew happy!
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