Accidents Do Happen

Idly this morning, I picked up the coffee, the creamer and the sugar from the cabinet. I was about to make coffee for myself. (What was that nagging pain of my hips?) The next thing I knew I was pouring very hot water on my left hand! It was too late to realize that I had removed the top cover. (The cover should only be turned a little to let the liquid flow!) I was shocked by the numbing pain but turned on the faucet which only produced like warm water to me. It did not help ease the pain and so I hurried to the fridge to get cold water leaving the faucet on. I poured the cold water on my trembling hand (The nagging pain of my hips was gone!) but it was no use. Still in shock, I put the cold water in the tabo and dipped my left hand there. There was relief.

But that was momentary. As soon as my left hand was out of the tabo, the excruciating pain was back. It took awhile before the pain subsided. I decided to still go to work. There are lots of things to do. (There was no burn ointment in the house, too!)

After donning my uniform, striving to ignore the pain which was little by little going back, I told Papsie what happened. There was no obvious scald and he told me it will not have blisters. (But it was painful, goddamit!) I took with me the tabo inside the car and dipped my hand into the cool water. On our way to work, I tried lifting the hand from the tabo but I became scared because the pain was becoming intense each time I get it out of the tabo. I almost jumped out of the car when we reached the company and hurried to the clinic only to discover to my dismay that it was locked. (Where is that idle nurse!? She could not be absent today, no way!) I immediately left to go to my office which was upstairs and seemed miles away.

I asked the VP’s secretary if she saw the nurse and told me that she must be upstairs, so I hurried up. I saw the tip of the nurse’s hair from across the glass panels of the other office, and with panic asked her that I needed her help.

In the clinic, in between my repeated words of what transpired, the nurse put a cream all over the affected area. At first it felt cool and relieving but when I reached my room, the pain was excruciating and it was like millions of tiny needles are being pricked into my hand. It increased and I panicked and cried so hard in the comfort room. Thank God, my office has its own CR!) After a while, the pain subsided a little, probably frightened by my agonizing wail. (Must be the reaction to the cream.) I held my left hand and turned on the electric fan (The AC couldn’t help this time.) to ease the pain. Still, my tear ducts continue to produce welling tears because of anger for my stupidity and of self-pity because there was no burn ointment in the house!

The intercom was not functioning so I went downstairs again to tell the nurse that I cannot stay. I cannot be able to focus with the pain. So, I am on leave ‘til Sunday! It would be a grand respite without this first-degree-burnt hand.

Clark Gable once said, “I'm just a lucky slob from Ohio who happened to be in the right place at the right time.” And I’m just a weighed down wage earner who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”