Number one summer
5/25/14
It was my fault because I had just said, “nothing crazy has
happened to me lately.” I wish I could
take It’s like I’m cheering on an invisible sports
team or constantly asking a question to whomever I pass by, while being wrapped
like a mummy.
Most readers won’t know, but I also have a small homemade
soap company that runs under the same name, “dirt don’t hurt.” I make soap from scratch using fats and lye
and give it natural smells and color and most of the time, it’s a hobby turned
side job that I absolutely love. The
artistry of fragrance, the chemistry of the soap, and the mission to tell
people to love nature and play in the outdoors because, as I remember hearing
often when I was younger, “dirt don’t hurt.”
The problem is that lye does.
There are moments in one’s life that should not be replayed,
either out of misery, fear, general stupidity, or in this case, all of the
above. Normally I use extreme caution
when dealing with sodium hydroxide. I
wear protective gear, have a safe procedure.
But when alone and in a hurry, I did something that will forever haunt
me: I only wore one glove.
You can imagine where this story is going.
While holding a container of liquid that was around 200
degrees, a chemical reaction went awry and the whole mixture bubbled over like
a volcano, covering my hand in burning liquid and speckling my body as I threw
the container on the counter.
Immediately following I said a few dozen choice words, danced around in
pain, held my hand under cold water and stripped down to reveal the rest of the
burns before dumping all of the vinegar I own over myself. (The vinegar neutralizes the sodium
hydroxide. So glad I paid attention in
chemistry class. Also really glad I
don’t have close neighbors.)
I’m also really glad for the world’s best mother-in-law, who
drove me to the ER in my pajamas with my hand in a bucket of ice water.
Thankfully, the small burns from the splashing are nearly
gone, and there was no damage done to my kitchen. The doctors say it will take about a month
for my hand to heal, and while I know I’ll be surrounded by cookouts where the
grilled hot dogs remind me of my fingers, I’m thankful that the injury was only
what it was because it could have been much worse. Not the best way to start off a summer, but
once things heal and the bandages come off, I’ll be sure to make this summer
definitely a number one.
With two gloves.
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