Yesterday, we had planned on cutting our own Christmas tree from the Wasatch National Forest. You can get a tree-cutting permit for only $10 and they tell you where you can go to cut down a tree. It's a bit of a drive from our house to the permit place, about 3 hours or so.
So I decided to make us some turkey sandwiches with leftovers for the journey. I was cutting open some bisquits and I cut my thumb with one of our wonderfully sharp Cutco knives. It was so gross, because I saw that I cut a big chunk of my thumb. Adrian helped me run it through some water and then I had to lie down. He kept putting pressure on it while I lay there, very grossed out. Eventually it seemed to stop bleeding so he wrapped it, and we ended up not going on our Christmas tree adventure. :(
Later that evening, it bled some more, so we went to a clinic near our house and they cleaned it out and I got 11 stitches! ugh, lately, the thought of blood really makes me quesy, and I felt quesy at times in the clinic, especially when the doctor was digging in there and saying that the chunk was only attched by a sliver of skin, ew. But it is better now, and I feel less quesy about it. It hurt a little bit, but it was really the thought of it that bothered me more than anything. (I hope that I can handle kid injuries when we have kids and not faint when they bleed everywhere. I used to not be such a wuss, so I'm not sure when that changed.) They wrapped my hand pretty well, and now it looks like I have a hurt wrist.
So now, we are probably just going to put up our fake tree and get a real one next year, since I can't really help lift the tree on the car or anything like that - a little sad, but I guess we will save $10 (although, I'm not sure what the clinic bill is going to be yet, eek...)