17 July 2017

warning graphic content (sort of)

A few exciting things have happened in my quilting life recently.

1. I quilted my Texas quilt and hand-stitched the binding. It has since been claimed by the furry one.

2. Remember my t-shirt quilt that I promised to update everyone on? Quilting on my standard machine turned into much more of a beast than I expected, so as a Christmas gift (thanks, Mom and Dad!) it was taken to a Cheryl who quilted it on her long arm. We picked it up a few weeks ago. Now to bind!

3. I purchased a new rotary cutter! It's colorful, fun, and sharp.
4. I removed a portion of my left index finger with aforementioned rotary cutter. Ouch.

Yes, a traumatic quilting accident occurred on the morning of July 16th. I was cutting fabric, as I have thousands of times before, when my rotary cutter slipped and took off a hunk of fingertip. At first I simply would not believe it happened, but it proved to be too difficult a task to explain away the piece of flesh and freshly painted fingernail on the mat next to my ruler. In lieu of a play by play, I'll give y'all some insight as to my inner dialogue in the moment:

"Oh gosh, did I cut my finger? I don't think I cut my finger. Is that my finger? I couldn't have cut my finger off. I cut my finger off!!! Oh, oh, I'm bleeding. It's bleeding." *walks across room to paper towels* "Did I cut my finger off? Who can I call? Should I call 911? They don't do fingers. Do they do fingers? Aren't ambulances expensive? I have to drive. I have to drive. Who can I call? I can't go like this. I have to change." *walks to closet to change out of pajamas* "I'm wasting time!!! I'm going to bleed out because I changed clothes! Do I have to drive? Where's UrgentCare? I think there's one on Greenville. I think there's two on Greenville, actually. Should I just call 911? I need to use the restroom. I don't have time to use the restroom!! But I might wet my pants if I have to wait anywhere. Oh gosh." *uses the restroom, remembers cat* "Cyber! Cyber come here mama has to go. NOW!" *shoves cat into bedroom* "Does he have food? No time!" *vision starts to darken around periphery* "Oh gosh, I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out in the car and crash. Who can I call? I can't drive. I have to drive. I'm going to pass out right here and no one will know. No one will know!! I have to drive. I can't pass out." *takes time for yoga breaths* "Okay, that's a little better. I'm better. Do I have to go?" *somewhat in denial, takes time to pause Netflix in hopes that the situation will correct itself* "I have to go!!! I'm going to pass out and crash. Should I take this? I should take this." *puts fingertip in Ziploc* "Okay, here we go. Where's my phone? Where's my phone? Do I need my phone? I should probably call someone. Oh, here it is." *exits apartment, gets in car, blasts AC* "Okay, this is better. We can do this, we can do this babe. Let's go."

I made it to UrgentCare without passing out or crashing, and they ended up sending me to a freestanding ER clinic right across the street from my apartment complex where I was fixed up with some bandages and a tetanus shot. In the moment, it was probably the scariest thing to happen to me in my adult life. In retrospect, it makes a pretty funny story.

Be careful with those rotary cutters, ladies and gentlemen!

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