A Shout-Out to My Immersion Blender

Oh, immersion blender, you rascal, you!

Remember at the end of my last post, the one about granola, when I wrote that I'd next post about yogurt, barring any emergency, or something to that effect?

Well, Wednesday night, I accidentally chopped up my right index finger with my immersion blender. So, yogurt post delayed.

It was late in the evening. I was home alone with my baby. I was attempting to make a lovely salad dressing using dill, carrot tops, and preserved lemons. I went to pick out a bit of stuck lemon rind, and the rest is history.

My mind immediately cataloged all the things I wouldn't be able to do in the short-term:

• pick up my baby
• nurse my baby
• bathe my baby
• dress my baby
• change my baby's diaper

Notice a trend? Mr. Lemon is in the thick of studying for his comprehensive exam for his master's degree, as well as working and taking several courses. This is not a good time for him to assume most of Baby Lemon's care. I felt awash with panic and guilt.

Then came the heartbreaking moment of wondering if certain hobbies would be a thing of the past. Would I be able to play the piano again? Would I have to give up learning how to play my new harp? Would I ever finish knitting that sweater for my mother? Certainly not by her birthday next week. Typing? Writing?

Three stitches (there wasn't much skin on the upper part of the first knuckle to stitch up, honestly) and 48 hours later, I feel optimistic that I'll have full range of motion in my finger again. And most of my sensation.

My fingernail will never be the same. I don't know if I can keep my immersion blender anymore. I felt an irrational panic the first time I stepped back into my kitchen, greens and olive oil and blood scattered across my counter and the floor. My little kitchen looked like the set of a horror film.

Sigh. Kids, don't stick your fingers into an immersion blender unless it is completely unplugged and you are sure you know what you're doing.

End diatribe.