OK it was more of a embarrassing craft accident that nearly sent me to the emergency room. I'm not even joking about that. Here's what happened...
Once upon a time there was a crafty young woman named Lynne, who was doing a little organizing in her craft room. Noticing her crochet hooks were frequently sliding out of her crochet case she purchased a more secure case. The original case was lovingly stitched by her mother and gifted to Lynne when she was a teenager. So, she enjoyed using it. It just had one flaw. It needed a top to stop the crochet hooks from sliding out. Since Lynne has many projects in the works she purchase a new leather case for traveling and would leave the beloved cloth case at home with the extra needles.
One evening while watching a movie with Van Heflin and Joanne Woodward called "Count Three and Pray." Joanne Woodward's first movie by the way. Lynne started organizing her crochet hooks by number. Sliding them one by one into the leather case. Each hook had it's own loop to keep it snug and secure in the case. Problem was the loops were a bit too snug. Each hook had to be wrestled into the loop. Quite a bit of pushing was needed to get it into the loop, but Lynne thought that was fine. She thought the loops would loosen up in time. She continued to read the numbers on the hooks and line them up. She'd been given quite a few tiny lace hooks years ago and it felt good to get them organized. Lynne wasn't planning any lace making sessions, but the tiny hooks were working out great for putting beads into her knitting and crocheting. A new technique she had just learned.
Then the fateful moment arrived. No one would have seen it coming. No one could have even guessed such a thing would happen... could happen. While sliding a crochet hook into it's loop in front of another crochet hook ... I hesitate to state the suspected number of the hook in question as I'm not sure. The number I suspect already has a bad name... so I'll just whisper as to not hurt it's feelings if it's innocent...*number 13." As I forcefully slid the one in front of it I suddenly felt something stick my thumb. I look more closely and I can't believe my dumb luck a crochet hook has pierced the side of my thumb.
It really didn't hurt when it happened. I thought it must have slide into the tough outer layer of skin. As I started to pull it out I realized no it's gone into the flesh and "whew doggy it hurts like a mutha" if I move it. I'm thinking it's just going to have to hurt for a second while I pull it out. I grit my teeth and pull. Nothing. I grit my teeth and pull harder. Nothing budges. Now I examine the other hooks to figure out which side the hook is on so I can maneuver it out of my thumb. Nothing but excruciating pain. I decide at this point to give the hook a twirl and just give it a yank. Yeah I know it's going to pull a plug of flesh out of my thumb, but it will be a teenie tiny plug. Again grit teeth give a firm pull and yank and it won't come out.
(how it was stuck in my thumb)Now I'm beginning to think "Oh my God am I going to have to go to the emergency room to have this cut out!" HOW EMBARRASSING! A few more yanks and I'm all wet with sweat from the pain. Hook is still attached to my thumb. Now you'd think blood would be spewing all over. No not one drop. With the embarrassment of it all I start to contemplate gnawing my thumb off. Then realize I can't do that I have a picnic the next day. How would I explain my inability to catch a Frisbee with no thumb?!
I calmed down and realize I'm going to have to ask for help. After all I have an RN living right under my roof...my dear hubby. By this time of night he's usually asleep on the couch. Tonight he's awake. I said, "Ed are you awake (yes), because I kind of have a serious problem." It's nice that he's an RN, but he's kind of negative and tends to be super cautious. I wanted the "yank the hook out" program and he's not into that at all! He starts stating what might be happening... it could be hooked on a tendon.... it could be hooked on your nail... it could be... blah blah blah and I bluntly cut him off and say again I just need you to yank it out. He states he doesn't want to hurt me... I remind him that there is no way around that. I'm getting super cranky, because of the pain and the fact that he wants to discuss in detail with me at a time I'm in NO mood for details. I ask him to get some ice so I can numb my thumb so it's not so painful when he pulls it out.
I then tell him he might need to put the poodle out of the room. All this time my poodle has been laying on me and comforting me. Funny how they can sense something is wrong. I remind him that she might think he hurting me and bite him. He then tells me it's OK. Erik can drive us both to the emergency room. They won't be laughing at you while I explain why I have a poodle attached to my neck. We both laugh and that does ease the tension. My thumb is now as numb as it's going to get and he forcefully pulls the hook out of my thumb. It was almost a 1/4 of a inch into my thumb. Do you want to see the blood ring on the hook he asks... no I calmly state as I'm putting pressure on my thumb. Still not much blood, but pressure and ice make it feel SO much better at this point.
Ed takes me to the bathroom where he sterilizes my thumb and puts on a band aide. I don't think I'll have a scar ... on my thumb that is... maybe just a scar on my psyche when I'm around small crochet hooks.
So, I must warn that these tiny crotch hooks are deviously sharp. They don't appear that way, but they will slid into your flesh like a hot knife into butter. BEWARE!