Lessons Learned: Part 2

…the blasted thing EXPLODED!  (My sister-in-law, who had been standing behind me, said it looked like a mushroom cloud of oil came UP and OUT OF the pot.)

I heard a loud noise, saw the oil sink down around the donut, closed my eyes, shrieked and jumped back.  I felt something slime my hand, sensed it was oil, and thought, Wow!  This actually doesn’t really hurt!  Maybe it won’t be so bad! 

Duh.

Here is what ensued:

I sprinted to the backyard pila (water retention sink) with my left eye squeezed shut where I could scoop water into a big bowl and submerge my (now burning) hand.  I shouted for someone to GET ME BUTTER!  My husband’s Aunt shouted for someone to GET HER TOMATOES!  I shouted NO!  GET ME BUTTER!!  She shouted GET HER TOMATOES!

My five year old saw the derelict donut and groaned.  “Great!  Now we can’t EAT that one!  It’s on the FLOOR!”

I began rapid breathing.  Gasping breathing.  Now it hurt like H.E.double-sticks.  Someone got me margarine.  Surely that would cool the burn.  I had learned that somewhere in my past and slathered it like diaper rash cream on a baby’s bottom.

SH$%!!!!  That was WORSE!!!!!!!!  I would have been better off letting my hand sizzle on a hot griddle.

In my mind: GET THE BUTTER OFF!  GET THE BUTTER OFF!  (rapid breathing) He eh hoo uh, he eh hoo uh, he eh hoo uh, he eh hoo uh.

Out loud:  GET ME TOMATOES!!!  (What for?  I have no idea.  But Aunt Carmen seemed to think it would do something.)

My brother-in-law ran in with a baggie full of tomatoes.  The whole flotilla of the Aparicio family was in action.  Carmen sliced them, squished up the insides and slopped them onto my hand while I (still standing over the sink and beginning to reminisce that this was exactly like the unescapable pain of childbirth) moaned to her to put them on my face.  My sister-in-law and mother-in-law helped with whatever they could.  Pain was leaping out in scattered spots on my face, neck and arm.  Semi-tolerable.  The hand, I would have preferred to cut off.

The tomatoes turned out to be the ONLY thing that soothed the pain.  Nothing like an epidural, but they cooled the burn.  The thing was, after about two or three minutes of me rubbing them on my hand and her rubbing them on my face, the soothing goodness would wear out.  Someone would slice more, squish them up and slap them on.

I continued moaning, standing, bouncing, tensing, thinking to myself that I should pretend I’m in yoga and slow down my breathing.  I sat down.  Crouched over, tight, folded, surely cutting off blood flow to my brain, attempting la maz, pressing tomatoes to my hand, seething in pain.  She suggested I lie down.  Maybe that would help me relax, for, Relaxed I was Not.

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Ahhh.  I uncurled onto a pillow on the caned couch.  At least my organs were not compromised of circulation any more.  My other sister-in-law, a nurse, had been called at her job a couple towns away.  At her request, some special cream arrived from her house down the street that Aunt Carmen began slathering on in frosting-like layers.  Someone brought a fan at which I directly aimed my hand.

Within about 30 minutes or 7 hours, life began to come back into control, although very slowly.  And, our niece’s fifteenth birthday party (similar in style to a wedding, but she wore a purple dress and married no one) was in about an hour.

And, I still looked like that.  (see tomato picture above)  But needed to look like that.  (see right hand hiding behind birthday girl below).

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That was the beginning of me learning to do things one handed…left handed…and I’m right handed.  I showered left handed with my right hand held high in the air.  I washed my long hair left handed…that would have been a nice time to have short hair.  I put on makeup left handed.  Have you ever put on mascara with the wrong hand?  (Men, that is not something you should try. Ever.  Women, good luck, and try not to poke out an eye.)

And, that was also the beginning of wondering why there was almost no outward sign I had been burned!  Save for a little redness here and there, I had nothing to show for it!  Seriously???  I have gone through pain second only to going through labor and there’s nothing to see???

Ahhh…I judged to soon.  You’ll see in Part 3.  And I’ll finally tell you all of the lessons I learned.

Until then…

–  The Goat Cheese Lady

About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Growing up, the closest thing I had to farm animals were a cat and a cockatiel. In 2009, Herbert (my husband) and I bought our first milk goat and I instantly became an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life..before I knew “urban homesteading” was a thing. That’s when we began The Goat Cheese Lady Farm, hence The Goat Cheese Lady blog you’re visiting now. After moving to the country in 2014, I embarked on life as a rural farmgirl. We continued teaching farm and cheesemaking classes, raising more goats and began construction on our cheese creamery. But life had other plans and in 2017, we decided that, due to financial and health issues, we had to close the farm for business. No more classes, no more creamery, a lot less milking. We went back to off farm jobs, I as an Occupational Therapist, Herbert in construction with his business, D&A Home Remodeling. At that point, I made a silent promise to myself that I would corral my entrepreneurial mind and focus on a job for a year. Well, it has been a year and I am back. Not to classes, cheese, soap or lotion, but back to writing. I love it. I’m not sure where it will lead me, but that’s where I’m starting. I’ll continue to write as The Goat Cheese Lady for now, and whatever the future holds, I’ll let you know. Our two boys are 14 and 11 and continue to be louder than my sister and I ever were. We have two dogs, Montaña and Flash, a cat, Jumpy, a flock of chickens and three goats. Yes, we still have Lucy, the goat who helped us start it all and was milked by over 1,000 people. She’s retired but still the boss. Chocolate provides enough milk for our family with some to spare for the dogs. Soccer friends, school friends, coyotes and mice are frequent visitors. There are way too many flies and every so often we see an owl. I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes you’ll laugh out loud, other times you’ll be inspired to appreciate the small things. My hope is that, over your morning cup of coffee or your afternoon work break, you’ll enjoy the antics and inspiration that are my daily life. Lindsey
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5 Responses to Lessons Learned: Part 2

  1. Ginger says:

    Lavender essential oil………seriously stings at the beginning but them it’s a miracle! But i speak before i hear the end of the story……like what was the special cream??

    • Ginger, It was something for diabetic foot care…not some special burn cream. The ointment she gave me was a triple antibiotic ointment, also not specific to burns. Interesting about the lavendar essential oil! Do you just drip it straight onto the burn? Lindsey

  2. Marsha Lee says:

    Lindsey,
    I had forgotten how awful that donut experience was for you! I miss you! Do you have any free time next week (Feb. 4- 8) to get together? Let me know when you know so I will know…know what I mean? I’m just trying to be clever like The Goat Cheese Lady.
    Aunt Marsh

  3. karen kanode says:

    Lindsay, Awesome lessons – GET THE TOMATOES!

    Your adventures are just amazing!

     Thanks for the suspense!

    Karen Kanode

    “Do unto those downstream as you would have those upstream do unto you.”  Wendell Berry

    ________________________________

  4. Sharon Chaple says:

    Wow praise god you are now healed no scares what a story xamore cheese

    Sent from my iPhone

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