The Oyster Incident.

Mr. Hawthorne and I are having OYSTERS for lunch. And you know how much I floves my oysters.

So I went to the fridge downstairs to get a bowlful of oysters.

And we started a-shuckin'.

OOOPS. After 30 years of shuckin' oysters, I finally made the inevitable mistake. I knew it would happen. Just didn't know when. Finally happened Saturday afternoon. The oyster knife slipped and went into the muscle of that meaty part of the hand, between the thumb and first finger. I cried out, "OUCH!" And some other choice words. It hurt like a mo-fo. I washed the wound out, poured peroxide over it, and Mr. Hawthorne put antibiotic ointment on it and bandaged me up.

There's the flesh-piercing instrument. Now for the squeamish out there, I will warn you that this post contains graphic images.

Here's a re-creation. Oyster knife on the right. Impaled meat on the left.

Here are the oysters, topped with paprika, sugar, and parmesan cheese on the right, and on the left, the oysters with a butter/wine/parsley/green onion sauce.

Oysters went under the broiler for about 5 minutes.

And, as usual, they were delicious.

Mr. Hawthorne figured out this was how far the oyster knife entered my flesh, considering the width of the flesh wound.

Saturday night, he cleaned my wound and wrapped me up again.

Does my wounded hand look a different color than the other one? Or is that just my imagination?

This is my hand at 10 PM Saturday night.

This is my hand 9AM Sunday morning.

This is where I was Sunday afternoon at 1:30PM, after waiting 70 minutes.

I shot this just to give you a hint of the ambience here.

When the PA came in, I told her I needed a tetanus shot and antibiotics. Then she started squeezing. Ouch. Then she called in the doctor, whom I've known for years. He took one look and said, "This is bad. Real bad."

A nurse came in to give me a tetanus shot in my left arm, then left the shot for the antibiotic on the counter. No arm for that one. I had to drop trou and "assume the position." And whatever was in that antibiotic really hurt going in. Then I had to wait another 20 minutes to see if I was going to have a horrible reaction to the shot and go into anaphylactic shock or something.

It's quite swollen now. They swabbed it, and my white cell count was at 12 and normal is supposed to be at 4. They're concerned since this has happened in less than 24 hours. They did another test for finding out what kind of bacteria is in there, but I won't hear about that for 2-3 days.

The nurse then brought me a pan with whatever antibiotic solution in hot water to soak my injured paw in. Great. Now I have to pee. More antibiotic ointment. Then they wrapped me up and sent me off on my merry little way to WalMart with my prescription for more antibiotics. And I was told to soak it in Epsom salts, change the bandage tonight, don't get it wet, and come back tomorrow if it worsens. And absolutely come back Tuesday at 9 AM. "Our job right now is to try to keep you out of the hospital." That would mean possible cellulitis and definitely IV antibiotics. And, sniff, sniff, no Happy Thanksgiving for Rosie.

Keep your fingers crossed. Rosie wants to have Thanksgiving at home with Mr. Hawthorne, the Little Hawthornes, and Dixie.