I am a clutz . . .

I have the worst luck. If something is gonna happen to someone it's gonna be me. I am the one who gets the rare complications from strep, I get Fifth's disease which only affects children up to 12, I had the windshield of my van broken 3 times last winter due to ice, I am a bad luck magnet. I am also very clutzsy! Together, that's a bad combination.

Yesterday I went to buy a new x-acto knife for a project at work. The blades said, "surgical precision". Here's where everyone already know's the future of this post . . .

I took them back to work, paste my photos on the foam board and began cutting. I was using a very old, very thick hardwood yardstick. I wasn't doing anything irresponsible. I had almost finished when . . . SLICE. The knife went right through the yard stick and up through the top of my index finger. It cut through my nail, through the nail bed and was about 3 cm long. Zoinks!

I grabbed a paper towel and began applying pressure. By the way, I am the American Red Cross trainer, at this point I hoped I had trained the staff well. I refused to look so I had a supervisor tell me if it was bad, and she said "Oh Lord, wrap that up and go get that taken care of." it was cut almost completely through and you could see the bone tip.

I came away with 3 x-rays (since they thought I may have knicked the bone), several stitches, a bag full of additional dressings and some good pain medication. And many "clutz remarks" from friends and family. I can't tell you how many times I heard "Only you Sheri".

It hurts. I'm a baby. I need some medication.