Okay. Where do I start?
Let's get the unpleasantness out of the way first.
Monday night, while attempting to prepare dinner for our hosts in Port Townsend, Washington, I managed to slice my left thumb and forefinger open with a 12 inch chef's knife.
I did something really stupid. I tried to cut open the plastic encasing the pork tenderloin we were going to grill with a huge, and very sharp knife rather than do the sensible thing, and open it with a pair of scissors.
I swear that alcohol was not involved.
Needless to say, it was very shocking. Much blood was shed. And I knew that elastic bandages were not going to be enough to take care of the carnage.
Our wonderful hosts and friends, Cathy and Mike, were down at the beach walking their two dogs when this happened. Luckily, they returned home about 5 minutes after it happened.
Cathy asked me if I wanted to go to the local emergency room. I, of course, said yes. So after wrapping my injured appendages in bandaids and paper towels as best as we could, we set off.
On they way to the local hospital, we passed an emergency walk-in clinic. Cathy asked me if I wanted to go there instead of the hospital ER. I said yes, knowing that I would probably be seen quicker there than the ER.
So we turned around and went to the Urgent Treatment Center.
Fortunately, the clinic was not too busy. There was only one other patient being treated there. A woman who had had a similar accident with a kitchen knife as it turns out.
I filled out the registration forms and was taken back to an examining room, where the nurse removed our crude bandages and took a look at the wounds.
Within 10 minutes I was seen by the doctor who eventually sutured the wounds. He was a very nice guy with a great bedside manner. While we waited for the operatory to be prepared, we exchanged recipes.
As you can see, he did a great job of suturing my wounds. Which is kind of remarkable as he only had three fingers and a thumb on each of his hands. Yes, he was missing the pinkie fingers on both hands. I assume their absence was congenital.
As a dentist, I have had a lot of experience suturing surgical and accidental wounds, so when I say this guy was good, I know what I am talking about.
So three days later, I am on the mend. The wounds are healing well. I will have my doctor remove the sutures on Monday or Tuesday after Ali and I return to Kentucky.
I guess you are wondering what the heck we are doing in Port Townsend, Washington.
It's been a very stressful past few months for Alison and me. Ali had to go to France to bring her kids to the States for a month. Then we had to take the children to Pennsylvania to see their grandfather, aunts and uncles, and their cousins. All while dealing with my sister Jo Ann's illness.
Then, after we got the kids back to France, Jo Ann's health got even worse, and she eventually died.
Ali and I discovered her the morning that she died.
Later that day, after arrangements had been made, and we had returned home, I told Ali that as soon as we could, that we were going somewhere. Anywhere but Lexington. I just knew we needed to get away.
There were several possibilities. We had plenty of standing invitations from friends to visit them.
But our dear friend Cathy came to our rescue. She knew what we were going though, and insisted we come visit them.
I did not hesitate. I made the reservations as soon as we received the invitation, and two days later we were flying to the Seattle.
We have been here in Port Townsend since last Friday.
I haven't been this relaxed in ages. It has been a very therapeutic and rejuvenating experience. Even with the trauma of my hand injury.
I can't thank Cathy and Mike enough for what they have done for Alison and me.