I was merrily going to make myself a cup of tea on sunday evening, as I have done many thousands of times before (not on all of them on sunday), but this time was a little different. For reasons not entirely clear to me, I ended up with boiling water over my right hand, mostly on my fingertips. “Ouch”, I thought. It didn’t seem like a big thing. It struck me that I should probably put it under cold water, which I did, and all was well in the world for a few minutes. It may have been the surprise, the pain or the fact it had been a few hours since my last cup of tea, but standing at the sink my vision started to cloud over and it became apparent that remaining upright was likely to prove challenging. I had to sit down. I stumbled over to the stairs and sat there for a moment but it didn’t seem to be getting any better so I headed upstairs the best I could and intended to collapse on my bed.
And I did collapse on my bed, but I was interrupted about 3 seconds later due to the quickly intensifying feeling of PAIN in my hand. It wasn’t until then that I realised how much it hurt. I ended up spending most of the night holding onto various things from the freezer. It took until 4 o clock before it had subsided enough for me to go to sleep.
Now it’s, uh, Tuesday night, 48 hours after I did it. It doesn’t hurt anymore but over the course of the last few hours I’ve cultivated some rather impressive looking blisters on my middle, ring and little fingers. So I am a little handicapped at the moment (that was a pun) but not as much as you might think.
lesson: hot water is hot