One More Go, Three Stitches and a Tetanus Shot!

One more Go:
Here's the cover, and the slightly edited blurb. (For those that can't see it, I had secrets in the same sentence with seek, it was too repetitive sounding, so that is what is edited.)

One man, labeled monster, imprisoned for 200 years.

His brother - the only remaining jailer. Refusing to protect his family's shame any longer, he seeks to serve a confession from his deathbed.

A foster son, witness to an impossible testimony of deceit, jealousy and murder. He must bear the ill tides of the past to correct the future.

Three men, bound by blood, love and iron.

Shackled.

Fans of Anne Rice's "Interview with a Vampire" and Umberto Eco's "The Name of the Rose" may also enjoy this read.

Three Stitches and a Tetanus Shot:
Last Sunday was Superbowl Sunday (for anyone with their head in the sand) which is Doomsday for anyone who delivers pizza (me). I was opening driver, scheduled from 11am-8pm. As opening driver, it's my job to do morning prep. I cut up (and involuntarily cry over) yellow onions, green peppers and tomatoes. I also prepare sauces, make-line, whatever I have time for ect.

On Sunday, we were expecting to do a ridiculous amount of sales for our tiny store. (We fell $700 short, so it wasn't actually TOO bad). I usually prepare about 10 onions (depending on size) in the mornings, and it will take us all the way through night rush and sometimes even into the next day. On Sunday I prepared 24 and I heard a coworker prepared another 20 or so later. (It was too much, we had so much leftover!)

Our vegetable slicer is not great. We put things through, but, invariably, there are huge chunks that don't meet the standard size. I end up chopping these by hand with our great big butcher knife that gets sharpened every two weeks. (See where this is going, yet?)

I had just chopped a batch of the over-sized chunks and was using the knife to scoop them into the lexan. I do this ALL THE TIME. Practically EVERYDAY. For some totally bizarre and asinine reason, my hand slipped, sending the edge of the blade in a six inch line through the palm of my left hand. I very neatly opened up the skin, much like carving a roast.

Needless to say, I bled.

I would also like to point out - we do NOT have a cutting glove.

Being one who is incredibly safety conscious (I wash our vegetables more than ANYONE else, and always wash and sanitize the cutting board/knife/slicer between products to prevent cross-contamination) I tossed the knife into the sink and leapt away from the cutting board, sheltering my hand from bleeding on everything but itself. I ran up to the front (again, to get away from the food) to wash my hand in the open sink away from the dishes.

Here is where things sort of fell apart.

My coworker in the back almost threw up because he doesn't deal well with blood. My manager skedaddled away, also. I was sort of left hanging. Nothing was really done for me and I ended up calling my fiance to drive me to the hospital because I have a stick-shift and couldn't shift and steer with one hand, while the other one leaked my life all about the place.

I got to the hospital (5 minutes up the road) about 30-45 minutes after I had actually cut myself. I had gotten the bleeding mostly staunched by that point and just sort of helplessly stared at the open chunk of skin on my palm.

Most unexpected comment of the day: "You filleted it (my hand) nicely!" I will never look at fillet mignon the same...

I ended up needing three stitches to keep the skin closed. I also had to get a tetanus shot, you know... just in case. I've nicked myself at least ten times on that knife before, but ah well. I couldn't recall my last tetanus shot (really, who can?) so kerplunk I got one.

Before they put the stitches in, they had to give me an anesthetic, basically so I wouldn't feel them piercing my skin six times. I got 6 shots of anesthetic, each of which burned like FIRE. Seriously, it hurt far more than the actual wound did. Unfortunately, the last stitch was out of the range of the anesthetic so I had the pleasure (NOT PLEASURE) of feeling the hook pass through my skin and then the pulling as he tied each knot in the stitch.

Today (Tuesday) is the first day it has been almost pain-free and tolerable. Every little movement doesn't kill anymore, which I consider a significant step up.

I was also semi-jokingly accused of doing it to get out of work and watch the game. For the record, that is an incredibly ridiculous claim as I didn't care about either team playing, I didn't watch the game... and I don't even have cable.

Don't they know I deliver pizza? I can't afford that fancy stuff!