Gabriel and a Carton of Milk

The following is a blog entry that I wrote (on my very old blog) nearly 5 1/2 years ago when we were living in Romania.

November 3, 2006
Yesterday morning I woke up with every intention of doing a full day of school. I ate my usual breakfast, just a bowl of cereal, and was getting ready to take a shower. As I was walking into the kitchen, towards the bathroom, Gabriel was walking by with a rather bloody paper towel around his finger. “Mom, I cut my finger opening the milk.” Yikes! He certainly did a good job too. We do not have the normal gallon jugs here but one liter boxes that must be cut.

Kitchen sheers are the preferred safe method but although I have three pairs, they tend to wander away. So rather than search for them, Gabe opted for a knife. This was one of those bigger than a Band-Aid cuts and thankfully John was home to handle it. John examined it and bandaged Gabe’s finger and said he’ll be just fine. I slammed my finger in a car door at age 10. My mom took me to the ER and I didn’t need stitches. John cut his finger with an ax, age 30 and I took him to the ER. He didn’t need stitches either. We avoid Romanian hospitals if at all possible. Romania has come a long way since the fall of Communism in 1989 but the medical field is still a scary place. Please pray that Gabe’s finger heals without any problems.

While John was examining Gabe’s finger, Gabe started feeling a bit queasy. Could it be that my 15 year old son, taller and stronger than me and lover of action flicks, is qualmish at the sight of his own blood? We told him to lie down on the couch for a while. After I was sure he was ok, I finally took my shower. After family devotions, which were two hours later than usual, I decided that this would be a good day to watch some World War II movies that I had been wanting to watch with the kids. So even though we did not do the lessons that I had written down on our schedule, we still had a lot of learning going on.

Gabriel is nearly 21 now and fully recovered except for the fact that he apparently sliced a nerve and his finger is numb where he cut it. Doesn't bother him thankfully or affect him in any way. Praise the Lord!