Attack of the Broken Blender

Perfectly posed beneath a safety poster.

I had an unfortunate kitchen calamity last Saturday afternoon, and wound up with two stitches in my right middle finger. Here's the story...

It all began in the morning. Kane was particularly antsy, so I decided to take him out for a long walk in the beautiful sunshine - without having eaten my breakfast. Not even a cup of coffee.

I scurried to dress and take my meds (including the Victoza for my diabetes) and hopped in the car. We found a new forest path and had a really beautiful walk.

We met two really well-behaved dogs on the walk. This is one of them. Isn't she adorable?

It was going so well that we walked two kilometres to Kitchissippi Beach, which was all shuttered up for winter. But they had left their beer-garden garland to brighten the mood.

About half way back, I began to feel oddly sluggish, like every step was an effort. Walking on the uneven snow seemed harder than it had been on the outbound leg. All I could think was: I want to get home. This refrain became urgent, almost a silent chant with each step: home, home, home.

Once I got home, I went right to the kitchen and made myself a smoothie. I noticed that I had an unusually hard time cutting the mango -- couldn't seem to keep it upright.

I finally got my smoothie - it was just right! -- and was rinsing out the glass bowl of the blender when it started to slip from my hands. It shattered against the granite countertop and the broken glass slashed my finger.

One look at my blood-gushing finger told me that stitches were needed.

When I was in the car with Steve, it suddenly dawned on me that this whole incident was likely hypoglycemia, low blood sugar. Two and a half hours of steady exercise without a single calorie of intake was a recipe for disaster.

I think the steady walking masked the wobblies that I usually feel when my blood sugar plummets; I thought I was just tired.

Lessons learned:

• Never go out for a walk on an empty stomach.
• Keep some glucose tablets handy in my coat pockets, just in case.
• Don't assume tiredness is just fatigue. It could be hypoglycemia. 
• That urgent sense of needing to get home should also have been a clue -- panic is one of the indicators of hypoglycemia.

It all could have gone worse than it did, so I am grateful that all I ended up with was a couple of stitches.