While most people are making their new year resolutions and plans for “new year, new me,” I’m sitting on my sofa with my DoorDash order from Zaxby’s wondering why the breading on their boneless wings is hard enough to cut my gums. It’s safe to say I haven’t quite made it to the point of making my resolutions. I’m nursing my gums from injury after chewing the breading that time traveled from six days ago. Maybe it wasn’t that bad since I ate it anyway. Dramatic effect, I guess you’d say.
I guess I haven’t been in the “making resolutions” mood after a pot of wild and rambunctious collard greens attacked me Christmas Day. I was busy cooking the Christmas Day meal when I stupidly leaned over a pot of boiling collards. Physics should have taught me enough to understand the concept of steam buildup in a boiling pot. The desire to reach the cornstarch on a shelf above the stove overrode my common sense. However, just before I made the reach, I told myself to be careful because I didn’t want the steam to burn me.
Mid-reach over the pot, the lid “burped” out a big poof of steam right into my tender belly skin—even through an apron and a shirt. It hurt but I didn’t have time to properly tend the burn. I went quickly to my bedroom and slathered it with the first thing I could find—lavender infused salve. Lavender is calming, right?
I learned about eight days post burn that lavender is not calming. In fact, I think it pulled together with the remaining layers of my skin and planned a full on assault. Keep in mind, other than it hurting that day, it had not bothered me or looked bad up until the day after New Year’s Day. That’s when I noticed a giant liquid filled blister where the little bit of redness had been. I leaned to one side to watch the liquid flow down then leaned to the opposite side to watch it flow down the other side. In my mind, I knew that couldn’t be a good sign. I shouldn’t look like I was growing a baby Smurf waterbed on my belly.
But I was running late for work. I gently wiped it down with antibiotic ointment and put on my Spanx-alike shaping camisole. Now if that wasn’t stupid, I don’t know what was. I must have been thinking with negative amounts of brain cells to not understand the concept of bubbles. Surprise!! They pop! If you don’t know what happens when a relatively large blister pops on skin that has a burn worse than the owner realizes feels like, well let’s just say it’s a treat.
I recognized the blister had popped when I was headed to meet my mom for lunch. My shirt was suddenly wet after I left the restroom. I knew that there was no way I had peed on my shirt all the way up there and I knew I didn’t lean on the sink. But, still, I assumed it would be okay because I’d rubbed the ointment on it earlier that morning. I was extra wrong. Like extra, extra wrong. Infinitesimally wrong.
I realized such about two hours later when it felt like an alien was trying to erupt from my belly. I moved, it hurt. I talked, it hurt. The more I’d try to reposition myself, the more it would hurt. I was in a meeting when I apparently couldn’t keep myself from wincing in pain. One of my coworkers asked me what was wrong and I explained the hideous story. Facepalms were in stock that day. Except for me. I needed to be slapped.
Needless to say, they all coerced me to have it looked at since I was hurting so badly. I did and am thankful I did since the burn wasn’t just a simple one. It was deep in a few areas and had gotten dry. Burns don’t like to be dry. Hence, the bubble blister. My own body was smarter than me. But when the blister burst, the area became dry and started to crack which caused the pain. I was given some cream and bandages to change daily. I thought maybe for a couple of days but was shocked to learn this will be my routine for several weeks.
I just don’t know how I could have missed seeing the area getting so bad or how it didn’t hurt until then. I guess I was so focused on ensuring my feet were rubbed every morning with cream to keep them soft that I totally ignored the real problem. There is a saying that sometimes God has to break our hearts to fix our vision. God had to bring that blister to the surface to make me realize that I was hurt a lot worse than I thought. I was walking around with a potential infection brewing and none the wiser because I was distracted.
Life has a funny way of catching our attention. When the days feel like they are just coming too fast and the focus turns into a blur, it has to end the cycle. If we don’t know how to hit the reset buttons for ourselves, something else will. Depending on how long we’ve needed to hit that reset button, the consequences could be minor as in my case. Or, they can be disastrous.
Life isn’t meant to be lived like we are drinking from the fire hose or like we are just going through the motions. Wake up. Right now. Stop the madness. Take a look at the things you’ve allowed to steal your vision and replace it with focus on what really matters. That focus may be on getting healthier, or your family, or building the relationship with God that you really want. Whatever it is, find it and don’t let go. Or else, collard greens might attack.
Messpot Diaries 