So, I'm discovering that clumsiness and pregnancy are actually synonyms, much to my surprise. Not only am I forgetting EVERYTHING and then forgetting to remember it later, I am also walking funny and tripping over mid-air (it was HUGE, I promise!!!).
However, I have to confess that Sunday night I took it a bit too far. I was getting some cauliflower ready for dinner when my paring knife decided to have a malicious mind of it's own and cut my thumb off. Okay, not really off, but legitimately to the bone. I must have said something because Durrant came over with a concerned look on his face and interrupted my confused and disgusted stare at my gaping wound. Immediately, he took action - getting shoes, coats, presentable pants on to go to the hospital.
I, on the other hand didn't budge. It was only 3-4 centimeters long - yeah, I saw the bone, but I really think superglue will take care of it, right? Well, I decided to get a "second opinion" and called (step-mom) Dayna. She, was on my side - super glue will work great, you don't need to go to the doctor, you'll be fine. (This is me jumping up and down with joy)
That didn't fly with my very concerned husband. So, I called his brother, who is a nurse. Unfortunately, in his professionally medical opinion, he suggested I go see a doctor and get the wound stitched up. Hmmmm... This wasn't what I wanted to hear. (Meanwhile my Love is pacing around the house, wishing he could drag me out by the hair)
Okay, I said, we'll split the difference and call my brother doctor Craig, whom I knew would be on my side. No such luck. He said I needed to get it stitched up too. So, 25-30 minutes after the initial cut I grudgingly got in the car and went to the doctor to get the cut mended. However, I insisted on taking dinner with me
Moral to the story: don't call a doctor if you want to get out of going to the hospital. :)