Jul. 14th, 2004

raybear: (Spike)
Last night while slicing and removing the seed of an avocado, I cut myself with my big butcher knife. Stabbed myself would be a better word, since is probably twice as deep as it is long. It didn't hurt immediately. But it started gushing blood quickly. I was holding it under the running cold water of the kitchen sink for a full minute to help alleviate the pain and also give my nervous system time to relax after the adrenaline rush to think more clearly about what action should be taken. My hands were shaking unstoppably and it would be hard to apply pressure without calming down a bit.

I found a sturdy bandaid and some extra cotton for pressure to stuff underneath and luckily the natural position of my hand (slightly closed) pushes the wound together. I went to bed last night and almost went without a bandage, but decided not to risk bloodying the sheets. This morning the cut seemed to be almost completely healed over on the surface -- not just a scab but even a thin layer new skin seemed to have appeared. Who am I, the Slayer, with super-human healing powers?

This morning I went to the library to finish up my outline for a packet I'm mailing out in a couple more hours. While carrying books around, my hand was sore, but in a bruised feeling. I touched my palm to feel where it was swollen and where it hurt and it's possible the point of knife went all the way into me until it hit bone.

When I have a bruise that hurts, I constantly touch, touch, touch it. Light tapping, just enough to feel all of my surrounding nerves light up in anticipation, feeling fiery and tingley, not quite into the realm of pain, but ready to cross the line at a moment's notice. The more I tap, the further away the tingles reach, up my arm to my shoulders. Sometimes down my torso and I start to get slightly turned on. I was sitting at the table reading a book, unconsciously doing this. I went to open my computer and noticed something on my hand.

Stigmata! Okay, not really, but bright red rivers of blood going down my love lines and life lines and ofter creases in my hand that may or may not reveal who I am as a person. I fumbled in my bag for a tissue to reapply pressure.

Guess I already broke that new layer of skin.

May 2010

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