Slice of life

The paring knife slipped and sunk through the soft pink flesh on the index finger of her left hand, just below the second knuckle. She inhaled but remained still, watching as blood blossomed into a perfect sphere. The droplet swelled until the edges could no longer withstand the pressure of her pulse. Blood dripped down the side of her finger, across a freshly cut green apple slice and onto a wooden cutting board. She watched her insides move to her outsides, tilting her head like a child investigating a caterpillar when she noticed the white, almost iridescent color of bone hiding beneath the gash.

Familiar sounds buzzed around her—the evening news, her daughter laughing—but they were distorted as if her head was submersed under water. Her mother-in-law, Ruth, slicing carrots nearby, noticed the red puddle expanding its territory onto the stainless-steel counter top.

“Jonie!” she announced in a dramatic trill, “You’ve cut yourself!”

Later that evening over dinner, Jonie rested in the bedroom while the rest of her family whispered around the table. Maybe she went into shock after seeing her own blood, one offered. Pass the rolls, said another. It’s common, said one, for people to exhibit odd behaviors after trauma. This lasagna is so moist, said another. They smiled often and kept the conversation light and peppy; it was dinnertime after all, not a time for discussing unconventional behaviors.

Over a desert of freshly baked cream puffs, with just the right amount of sweetness to fully complete the meal, they commended Suzanne for her quick and decisive action to get Jonie to the hospital. Suzanne mentioned, casually, that it was fortunate she had such a keen sense of how to handle these kinds of situations. Then they chatted about the new fountain at the ER entrance (those rotating lights!), the efficiency of patient processing these days (must be a new software system) and how light the traffic was on North Lake Shore Drive.

What wasn’t discussed around the table (as the family tucked the elephant in the room to bed for the night) was that Jonie said it was the first time she’d felt alive in months.

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