I once got a fancy chopping knife for Christmas–thanks Dad! Unfortunately, the first thing I cut with it was my fingers! In 2010 my Dad decided he was going to buy me a fancy chopping or kitchen knife every year for Christmas and that lasted for exactly one year. Because I was working 60-80 hours a week at the time, the knife and all of my Christmas gifts that year sat untouched for a while. In January, the 9th of 2011 to be exact, I was cleaning our apartment and putting things away when I opened the knife and washed it. I washed the knife and set it on the counter. We had very little counter space. The knife came with a cutting board and I washed that and set in on the counter on top of the knife accidentally because of the limited counter space. When I came back to the kitchen later that night I picked up the cutting board, without realizing I had it on top of the knife, and picked the knife up by the blade too. It was placed awkwardly and I wasn’t paying attention to what was happening. It was around 11:30pm when this happened. I sliced my left ring finger and pinky finger. This required a trip to the emergency room that resulted in 7 stitches. I must have lost a lot of blood because I thought running less than an hour after receiving 7 stitches with a swollen hand was a good life choice. It was not. I could feel the pulsing in my hand the whole time. I wasn’t training for anything, at this point in my life running was a leisurely activity done for enjoyment and not for a purpose. I had no reason for doing this but I did. I ran 3 miles at 1:30 am and then went to work the next morning as if nothing had happened. My dad never gave me another sharp object ever again.
The end.
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