For some reason, I stuck my finger in my immersion blender this week.
While it was on.
It was not the first time I've done that.
The first time I did that, I was still dating my ex, but we had stopped living together - a period that lasted 6 months 4 years ago. I had just finished mixing the banana stuff together for cookies, was cleaning the blade and had my thumb on the on button. I pressed the on button by mistake when my finger was in the way.
It cut through the nail, fairly deeply, though I didn't know that at first because there was a lot of fucking blood. And my brain had gone blank from the pain that was such a shock I couldn't feel it in my finger.
So what do you do when you're alone, and you're bleeding a fair amount, you have no bandages or first aid gear and you're insensible from pain?
You call your mommy.
To be fair, my mommy is a nurse. So it's like calling TeleHealth Ontario except with more maternal sympathy. Except that my brother, who is very nice but not a nurse, had my mother's phone.
"Meg? Hey! How are you?"
"Dave? Is Mom there? Why do you have her phone?"
"No she's babysitting."
"I need to talk to her. I cut my finger really badly and I don't know what to do. It's bleeding a lot."
"Hold it above your head?"
Eventually, I walked the couple blocks over to where my ex was working and used a bandaid from their first aid kit. And then I went home and slept.
I didn't lose the nail, but I did come away with a small warning scar.
This time felt the same. The blade hits and it doesn't really hurt, it's just this weird thunk. And then I hear myself yell - this time "I did it again!" - and then there is a sensation of extreme heat, followed swiftly by extreme cold, followed by a short period where you pull into yourself and it's purpley dark and the horizon is very flat and wide.
People keep asking me how it happened. The last time, I had a reasonable story. I wasn't paying attention and I fucked up. This time.
Yesterday morning, I got an email from that ex that I was dating but not living with regarding the interview for the article I'm writing. It was a neutral email, required a short reply, which I sent off just before getting up to clean smoothie remnants off the immersion blender.
I turned the water on, pressed my thumb into the button and ran the blades under the water. My ex in my head, I thought "Man, can you imagine if that happened again? And with all this writing to do? And the conference my work is putting on? That would fucking suck."
And then I have a vague memory of thinking "There's a bit of schmutz on the outside there, it'll come off with my nail, maybe." And like a far off sound, like someone in the back of the room under layers of white noise, there is a tiny tinny voice saying "You should put your finger in the blender."
Then there is a blank 30 seconds.
Then blood, and heat and cold and purpley dark.
I'm not entirely sure what to think about the whole thing. I mean, obviously, I did it on purpose. Or not me, not the core part that knows how to keep all my parts safe and manages generally well. But it's somewhat disturbing that the part of me that wants to step in front of moving vehicles managed to take over long enough to get an oft-used part of my body sliced up pretty good.
I'll put it down to stress and remembering; try not to lose too much trust in myself.