We celebrated Thanksgiving not once or twice but three times this year with family and friends who feel as though they are family. On Wednesday it was to be fairly simple as I only had to roast a turkey and make the stuffing and gravy. Sounds simple enough, nothing I haven’t done a 100 times before except this year I was in a major flare up and extremely foggy. As I was attempting to use our food chopper, unsuccessfully I might add, I took it partially apart to try to figure out the problem and just when I thought I had it 2/3 of the way properly assembled I accidentally pressed the pulse button causing the blades to spin of their spindle and fly right through the air towards my face. Even as off as I was feeling that day I still had enough sense left to put my hands up to protect my face which in turn left my hands in a very vulnerable state. Before I knew it the whole mishap was over only I was left with serious cuts across three of my fingers and my thumb on my dominant right hand. Blood was spraying every where so in my rush to staunch the flow I grabbed the first thing that was handy which happened to be a dirty dish towel on the counter. I wonder just how many germs that thing holds within its many fibers. Meanwhile my 5-year old is seeing all this happen. He’s a little freaked out as you can imagine so I have to stay calm and play the whole thing down even though it hurts terribly and I just want to freak out myself. I calmly tell him it’s all good, that Momma got a few cuts but that I’m fine. I tell him I need him to go pick out some pants and a shirt real quick and put them on while I call Daddy. He must have been in shock because he did it without a fuss which is usually what happens when I make this request because he’s my little nature boy who would prefer to run around commando all day or begrudgingly in his underwear.
I call my husband explain in shorthand what’s occurred and that I need him home right now to take me to the hospital. My second call is to my neighbor and best friend Jessica telling her I was sending Joey over, that I’d cut myself and that Larry was on his way home to take me to the hospital. No questions other than if I was okay and did I want her to take me right now. She actually made me laugh because Larry only works 3 minutes from our home, but that is just the kind of friend she is – always there in any way she might be needed. I told her no that I just needed her to take Joey and that he was on his way over. In the meantime my turkey is done, the stuffing completed except for the chopping of the liver and gizzards, and the addition of an egg and turkey stock. As soon as my hubby walks in I tell him what needs to be done to finish it up. As you can imagine he looked at me as if I was nuts, standing there holding my hand in what now is a totally saturated dish towel with hardly any spots that aren’t soaked with my blood. I tell him it will only take a couple of minutes to complete if he can get the fu**ing chopper to work and we don’t want to ruin everyone’s dinner tonight by their being no turkey. He complies probably because he knows there is no reasoning with me in this state.
I head off to my bedroom to get dressed and find something better to wrap my hand in. Thankfully Jessica shows up in the nick of time to do up my clothing and to help me redress my injury – again in dish towels but this time they are clean. She wraps it with not one but two towels pulling them tight to help staunch the blood flow and secures them with an oversize band-aid. By now you can imagine how comical I’m looking – hair uncombed, mismatched clothing and a lovely dish towel depicting a cow eating flowers in a field.
Larry pops the turkey in the roaster with Jess promising to baste it every 45 minutes until we get home. She can not get over how calm I’ve been through the whole thing but really what choice did I have since my son was there and I didn’t want him to be scared. My husband is in agreement with Jess and said if it had been him he would have been passed out on the floor at the sight of his own blood. I don’t believe that to be true as he’s a lot tougher than he thinks he is. After several hours at the hospital I walk away with 5 stitches, 7 steri-strips, two finger braces and a new respect for our Ninja chopper which I don’t think I’ll ever use again and certainly not when I’m in such a bad flare-up.
As for that night’s dinner, it went off without a hitch and all of us Monsons ate until our bellies could hold no more.
On Thanksgiving day we had Jess and her family over for dinner along with my hubby’s parents. Larry cooked the whole meal by himself, all I had to do was give him instructions and set the table. By the time it was all prepared he was a little tired and more than a little frustrated. I think this is the first time he’s actually realized all the work that I go through for each holiday meal we prepare and we do the bulk of holidays and general get togethers at our house. After he had it all done he told me he’d never allow me to do it all on my own again and that he was sorry for all the times that came before. I appreciated his insight and thoughtfulness – yet another thing to be thankful for.
On Friday Jess returned the favor and had us over to their house for a Thanksgiving dinner. It was so great because I always do the traditional items that I grew up with but Jess and Jeremiah threw some new things into the mix like brussel sprout au gratin which was to die for and sweet potatoes that tasted just like a pie without a formal crust. For dessert they made a pumpkin rice pudding with raisins that was sinful. As we each went around the table expressing what we were thankful for I realized just how blessed we all were for good friends, for family, meals shared and adventures yet to be had.