That clinches it. I’m definitely never going to be a nurse.

My Zen Master…

Thankfully, no permanent damage. “Partial thickness burns” according to the ER doc. The left hand wasn’t bad at all. The burn on the right was partially up his arm done to the middle knuckle of his two middle fingers. It was worse than the right, but still not horrible. No nerve damage, doc said the skin should heal up in a few weeks. It’s iffy if he will be able to get back to work soon. Luckily, his normal days off are Monday and Tuesday anyway so we’ll see how he’s doing on Wednesday. Change bandages once or twice a day and keep it dry. And of course, The Zen Master being… well, The Zen Master, sat in the ER, completely calm and peaceful as the nurse… debrided his right arm and hand. Don’t know what that means? Google it. But whatever you do, DON’T do an image search. Yuck. Anyway, she did that… then bandaged him all up and showed me what to do at home and then advised us to wait for the doc for discharge instructions. And then she left. And then he cried. And, because he is who he is, he wasn’t crying because it hurt, or because he was worried about getting better or anything having to do with his own well-being. He was crying because he let people down. Because he felt stupid because it was a grease fire and, in a surge of panicked adrenaline, he threw the pot in the sink, which he knew was the worst possible thing to do. Because somebody had to get called in on their day off to finish his shift. Because he wasn’t even sure if they could finish his shift because the wall apparently got burned too and he wasn’t sure if they’d have to shut down the restaurant for a few days. And I hurt for him. Because I wish I could make him feel better, but unlike the burns, which I can put ointment on and bandage and help heal, he’s gonna have to work through the emotional stuff himself. All I can do is hold his hand…er… arm… no… shoulder? And try to make him smile (which I have to admit, I’m pretty good at).

I gotta say, he did get quite a bit of amusement When we changed the bandages the first time. Princess Punk got all excited when he started taking the bandages off.

“Oooooh, I wanna see!!!!”

I went into the bathroom with him and then left to get the gauze they gave us at the hospital. I should have been tipped off by the yellow hue to the once white pads that covered his right arm and hand. I came back into the bathroom to find Princess Punk  holding The Peach, looking over The Zen Master’s shoulder. I could see the greenish tint to her face in the bathroom mirror.

I shouldn’t have looked.

I looked.

His left hand? Not bad. Looked like your average kitchen burn over the side of his hand and down his thumb. The right? Let me pause typing a moment while I gag. Ok… So it wasn’t really, super awful… He just had some blisters. Except they were huge. 3-5 (I didn’t look long enough to actually count) blisters along the worst part of the burn. Each was 2-3 inches in diameter. Like the size of a stack of silver dollars. Gross. The Zen Master was quite amused at the reactions of his wife and eldest daughter and actually ran back into the bedroom to get his phone so he could take a picture.

Yup… My husband.

But, being the good, loving wife that I am, I changed his bandages. And my hands only shook a little bit.

I guess it’s a small price to pay for him actually being okay.

Be thankful I didn't use the photo he took.

Be thankful I didn’t use the photo he took.

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