PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I go along with my day as if nothing could go wrong

Too bad life had other plans for me today...

I steadily organize everything just as it's supposed to be,

By color, by department, by price point...

I get down to the last few that I can complete for the day...



I pull the box cutter from my back pocket of the shorts I'm not supposed to be wearing and I put it up against the flap that I want to cut off of the side of the box...



With one quick motion I think to myself, "Should I be back farther?  Should I be swiping it so fast knowing my leg is right here?"  These thoughts actually did run through my mind but I honestly didn't think a thing about it because I'm so used to using this object; I never thought I could actually, well, hurt myself with it.



The first try isn't successful, it didn't even cut through the box enough to rip the cardboard off the rest of the box...second try, I achieve my goal of getting through the stiff layer of, well, not cardboard, in this case it is...my flesh.



I drop the box cutter immediately and look frantically down at my right leg that's been lacerated. To me it looks like a shark bite, red and open. At this point all I could think of was, "Oh my God, did I really just cut myself?!"  I looked up after that split second and ran to the bathroom only a few feet away and grabbed a handful of paper towels out of the holder and pressed them to my gashed leg.  It never bled out onto the floor...not a drop.  



After stumbling to the corner outside the bathroom door, I yelled for Parker. "Parker!"  "Yes."  "Can you get a manager for me please!"  He hollered for both of them and they both turned the corner...thank God. I collapsed to the floor, shaking, ready to vomit up my lunch I had earlier. I felt like the room was spinning, like when I was hungover last Wednesday night.  I saw Jesse first, he looked confused and dazed to why I was on the floor.  I could barely make out the words I wanted to tell him so he could help me.  Then Lyndsey came around the corner with Parker again...



She told me I was pale and asked what happened I told her the story...I told all of them the story.  I remembered I didn't want to look at it because I knew it would be bad, even if it wasn't, to me it was going to be.  



I could feel the blood rushing to my head making me spin, I couldn't keep my eyes from moving all around the room.  The lights were so bright; I hated them right then.  Lyndsey came around with a First Aid kit in hand and Jesse took out gloves and an alcohol pad, he said, "Do you want me to take care of it or would you rather wait?"  I told him, "You do it because I do not want to look at it, I'm getting queasy."  



I could feel my stomach turning just at the thought of lifting up the paper towels.  They reassured me that it wasn't too bad and that if Jesse was going to clean it up it was going to hurt for a little bit; I knew it would and I was fine with that.



He ripped open the package and gave me a heads up before I felt a rush of cold on my wound and then the pain came...  I was gritting my teeth and listening to Parker tell me to take deep breaths...easier said than done.  I almost hyperventilated.  



Within the next few minutes, I was wrapped in gauze and taped up tightly.  They told me to sit down as I attempted to get up...so much for getting up because I went right back down haha



Daddy came to get me, they didn't suggest I drive considering I couldn't walk on it and I drive with that foot.  I gimped around work and that made Lyndsey nervous but I had stuff to do.  It hurt, yes but it wasn't going to stop me.  



Next time, step back and think...that's a box cutter and you're in shorts