The Incident

It was an average Tuesday evening. I had just returned from a walk around the neighborhood and was getting ready to finish dinner- a chicken stew of sorts. It wasn't cooking right in the crock pot, so I decided to transfer it to the oven... something went wrong in the process (and that something was probably my curious desire to see if the bottom of the crock pot insert said "Oven Safe." I'm still not sure what it says!) and I ended up spilling 6-hour-slow-cooked-boiling-soup down my right arm. Needless to say, it startled me and kind of hurt- and I threw the crock pot back on the stove, screamed OUCH OUCH OUCH and ran into the bedroom. Joey came after me right way, asking, "Tier what happened! Are you ok!?!" While I sat in tears on the floor, lamenting ONLY over the fact that I'd RUINED dinner and made the world's HUGEST mess in the kitchen, my wounded arm went unnoticed... until Joey asked, "Did you hurt yourself?" I didn't think I really had- I thought maybe a minor burn from the soup. Then I peeled the oven mit off my throbbing right arm to find a swollen, blistered mess underneath. We ran it under some luke-warm water, and Joey suggested that we go pick up some supplies at the drugstore to treat it with. While he gathered his stuff, the redness and blistering got worse. Another look, and he suggested we go to the hospital instead.

I've never been to the emergency room (or "emergency department," as it's called these days). So, Tuesday was my first official visit. On a scale of 0-10, I rated the pain a 6-- I figured I'd better wait to experience labor before venturing any higher than that! Two hours later, armed with some Silvadene cream and a well gauzed arm, we headed back out into the world. Well, we headed to Subway, where we enjoyed a non-Tierney-cooked dinner and then to Wal Mart, where we purchased some "healing" supplies... otherwise known as Milano cookies. Perfect.

A few hours later, the kitchen had been cleaned (by my sweet husband) and the cookies had been partaken of. We went to bed a little more experienced that we had been when we woke up that morning, incredibly thankful that it had worked out the way it had. I could have been home alone when it happened, or spilled the soup all over my body, not just on my arm. We were both very aware of the Lord's protection through the whole ordeal. 

Now, some photos of the cleanup process, and for those brave enough, a picture of the burn... be forewarned, it's not for the queasy! But if it makes anyone feel better... it looks MUCH more painful than it actually is! ;)

The Kitchen, Post Clean-Up

We discovered this forgotten painting with a little poem about ironing under the stove... and have no clue where it came from! Former tenant? 

After getting home... displaying the full effects of dinner and a trip to the hospital! And a glimpse of evidence that our little baby is growing! ;)

Above, our supplies for dressing the burn and my nursey / husband's hands that nurse me back to health! OK, be warned now: there is a picture of the burn itself below! Don't look if you'll be too grossed out! 

Lessons learned? Play it safe when working with hot substances. I didn't, and I guess I learned the hard way what a little stupidity can do!