- Joined
- Nov 27, 2004
- Messages
- 3,124
I have had a morning straight out of a National Lampoon film.
It started with me working very late last night. My alarm clock failed to go off this morning, so I woke up late as well. I decided to prepare a quick breakfast of toasted bagels while waiting for an important scheduled teleconference.
I set the oven to broil, chucked a halved bagel on the top rack, and calculated that I, an effective multitasker, had exactly enough time to slice up some nice old cheddar while waiting for the bagels to toast. I reached for the closest knife, which happened to be a 6" Mora, with a really nice patina - one of my kitchen workhorses. Holding the knife in my right hand, I turned to the countertop, blissfully unaware that I had somehow managed to nudge the cutting board earlier so that the edge was protruding. At this point, nice toasting-in-progress smells were coming from the stove.
As I raised the knife to start cutting the cheddar, the tip caught on the protruding cutting board edge and stuck into the bamboo, stopping the knife. My hand didn't stop, though, and I became aware of the situation when my brain (still a bit sleepy and lacking coffee) received an urgent "searing pain" message from my right index finger, which had just slipped onto the hair-popping-sharp blade of the Mora and gone for a short journey there using its built-up momentum. Springing into action, my brain responded with a quick "drop the sharp thing!" order that was received and carried out before I became consciously aware of what had happened. Gravity being entirely indifferent to my plight, the now-released knife fell directly downwards, impacting my right foot (tip-down, of course!). Result: Minor cut on the big toe.
Now, the cut to my finger was straight out of a samurai movie. You know, the ones where the hero and villain each take a single strike and then step back; the audience suspects that the villain has been dealt a mortal blow, but there is no apparent damage. Then we start to see a little line of red appear. Then the villain's expression turns puzzled and his head falls off. Well, I looked at my finger and it didn't appear to be cut. I was simultaneously relieved and slightly ashamed at my sharpening skills. Then a tiny little red line appeared. At this point, the smells coming from the stove indicated that the bagel was done, and ready to come out.
I ran to my the cabinet, finger elevated, trailing blood on the floor, and reached for a roll of adhesive medical tape. It was surprisingly difficult to unwrap the tape without getting blood everywhere, and the whole process took longer than I had anticipated. I was alerted to the delay by the sight of smoke emerging from the oven, where the bagels were in the early stages of combustion.
And just then - just when I was juggling a half-bandaged finger while trying to put on an oven mitt and extract the smouldering remnants of breakfast from the oven - the phone rang, letting me know that it was time for that important teleconference. Seconds later, the smoke alarm went off.
Seriously.
Anyway, everything turned out ok in the end. Still haven't decided if I need stitches, but I suspect I do. I thought I would share my morning with you guys - feel free to chuckle at my misfortune. I certainly am!
If I wanted to turn this into a 'teachable moment', I would say that it illustrates the often-complex nature of emergency situations, where one is faced with not one problem (I'm lost), but a series of overlapping problems (I'm lost and cold, it's getting dark, I think I twisted my ankle, and that wolverine looks curious). Effective preparedness in these situations means having the right skills, and hopefully the right gear - but first and foremost having the ability to quickly take stock of things and decisively organize actions according to an assessment of needs. The second major lesson is "don't cut corners!". I made a series of decisions that favoured expediency over careful, deliberate action (should have used the panini maker instead of the broiler to make my bagel, should have paid closer attention to my surroundings and to the movement of my knife, etc.), and the net result was painful.
Anyway, that's it for now. I'm going to walk to the store and buy a bagel.
Best,
- Mike
It started with me working very late last night. My alarm clock failed to go off this morning, so I woke up late as well. I decided to prepare a quick breakfast of toasted bagels while waiting for an important scheduled teleconference.
I set the oven to broil, chucked a halved bagel on the top rack, and calculated that I, an effective multitasker, had exactly enough time to slice up some nice old cheddar while waiting for the bagels to toast. I reached for the closest knife, which happened to be a 6" Mora, with a really nice patina - one of my kitchen workhorses. Holding the knife in my right hand, I turned to the countertop, blissfully unaware that I had somehow managed to nudge the cutting board earlier so that the edge was protruding. At this point, nice toasting-in-progress smells were coming from the stove.
As I raised the knife to start cutting the cheddar, the tip caught on the protruding cutting board edge and stuck into the bamboo, stopping the knife. My hand didn't stop, though, and I became aware of the situation when my brain (still a bit sleepy and lacking coffee) received an urgent "searing pain" message from my right index finger, which had just slipped onto the hair-popping-sharp blade of the Mora and gone for a short journey there using its built-up momentum. Springing into action, my brain responded with a quick "drop the sharp thing!" order that was received and carried out before I became consciously aware of what had happened. Gravity being entirely indifferent to my plight, the now-released knife fell directly downwards, impacting my right foot (tip-down, of course!). Result: Minor cut on the big toe.
Now, the cut to my finger was straight out of a samurai movie. You know, the ones where the hero and villain each take a single strike and then step back; the audience suspects that the villain has been dealt a mortal blow, but there is no apparent damage. Then we start to see a little line of red appear. Then the villain's expression turns puzzled and his head falls off. Well, I looked at my finger and it didn't appear to be cut. I was simultaneously relieved and slightly ashamed at my sharpening skills. Then a tiny little red line appeared. At this point, the smells coming from the stove indicated that the bagel was done, and ready to come out.
I ran to my the cabinet, finger elevated, trailing blood on the floor, and reached for a roll of adhesive medical tape. It was surprisingly difficult to unwrap the tape without getting blood everywhere, and the whole process took longer than I had anticipated. I was alerted to the delay by the sight of smoke emerging from the oven, where the bagels were in the early stages of combustion.
And just then - just when I was juggling a half-bandaged finger while trying to put on an oven mitt and extract the smouldering remnants of breakfast from the oven - the phone rang, letting me know that it was time for that important teleconference. Seconds later, the smoke alarm went off.
Seriously.
Anyway, everything turned out ok in the end. Still haven't decided if I need stitches, but I suspect I do. I thought I would share my morning with you guys - feel free to chuckle at my misfortune. I certainly am!
If I wanted to turn this into a 'teachable moment', I would say that it illustrates the often-complex nature of emergency situations, where one is faced with not one problem (I'm lost), but a series of overlapping problems (I'm lost and cold, it's getting dark, I think I twisted my ankle, and that wolverine looks curious). Effective preparedness in these situations means having the right skills, and hopefully the right gear - but first and foremost having the ability to quickly take stock of things and decisively organize actions according to an assessment of needs. The second major lesson is "don't cut corners!". I made a series of decisions that favoured expediency over careful, deliberate action (should have used the panini maker instead of the broiler to make my bagel, should have paid closer attention to my surroundings and to the movement of my knife, etc.), and the net result was painful.
Anyway, that's it for now. I'm going to walk to the store and buy a bagel.
Best,
- Mike
