Ice, ice baby (sorry this is gross)

The baby and I went ice skating in front of the neighbors house two Monday's ago. I starting falling and reached back to grab on to something and cut myself on the back of my, very dirty just-drove-home-in-a-snowstorm-car. So I drove myself to the insta-care (after dropping the little's back at home with Daddy) and almost passed out and threw-up waiting for a Dr to get to me. It was ugly. And I am, turns out, a huge baby when it comes to pain. I was fine for the first couple minutes after I fell, but when the Dr. (Woody Longnecker - real name) started scrubbing my fat cells out of my hand I was almost lost it. I thought it was all over when two hours, five stitches, a $25 co-pay, and a tetanus shot later I was sent home. Then Saturday night I whacked it really good and popped a couple of the stitches (aweeeee), I was so embarrassed, and in pain again, I just butterflied it and let it go. So today 8 days later I went to get my stitches out and the Dr. said I needed a full 14 days to have my hand heal all the way. I was waiting for him to say, "No dishes, diapers, or laundry, and take a nap every day." But he didn't say any of that dang it. Uhhh, sorry for the graphic photo's. Maybe I shouldn't have chosen "large"