
I tried to slice my finger off this morning and was somewhat unsuccessful. Too bad, I was, "so" looking forward to some extra flavor in my breakfast.
I broke a glass in the garbage disposal, except, I didn't know it was glass until the disposal said, "crash, bang, sputter, bam" and then I turned it off and decided to investigate. Good call, I must say. Hubby has kevlar gloves, so he put one on and cleaned out the mess for me, while I was bleeding to death in the bathroom.
Well, the good news is that the bleeding has stopped and the bad news...well, I'm not sure if I already shared this...but on Christmas day, I decided to trip up the stairs in our breezeway, and an even better decision: I decided to use my right, ring finger to catch my fall. According to a tap, a poke, and a look-see from the doctor, I tore a ligament in my finger. So now I have two injured fingers on the same hand (the one I favor of course). I think it's God trying to tell me, I need to strengthen my left hand.
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