I got a life-changing kitchen appliance last week: a dehydrator!

I’ve turned into a one-woman kale chip machine.

I’ve made turkey jerky, banana chips, beet chips, apple chips, raisins, sweet potato chips (basically anything that can be “chipped”, has been).

In my quest to make perfect sweet potato chips, I realized I needed to slice them super thin.

So that led me to my next purchase: a mandolin slicer!

I picked it up Saturday afternoon and couldn’t wait to use it.

I was making a delicious meal and decided to slice up some chips to dehydrate for Sunday.

Three chips down and my pinkie decided it wanted in on the action.

You see, I’m very indiscreet in the kitchen…especially with knives, hot stoves or ovens.

I cut myself at least once a week chopping vegetables; in fact, I have three scars on my fingers at this moment. I’m starting to wonder if this is normal.

As soon as I had sliced the tip of my finger, I knew it wasn’t going to stop bleeding anytime soon. I sighed, annoyed, because I was supposed to meet up with some friends (and I had really been looking forward to it).

I rang my upstairs neighbor (a doctor), who wasn’t home. Next was my next door neighbor. He answered the door and as I held up the blood-soaked paper towel, his eyes got big (side note: am I wrong to assume that guys love trauma and hospital visits?).

Luckily, it was a mild evening, so I put on a vest (I was not attempting putting my arm in a sleeve) and slipped on some moccasins – this completed my ensemble of sweaty workout clothes and sweatpants.

My neighbor drove me to the emergency room, which ended up taking us twice as long since neither of us really knew the way.

I was told to take a seat in the waiting room and I cringed at the thought of being there on a Saturday night (I could guess the others had not injured themselves because of their root vegetable fetish).

Fate was on my side again, as my finger bled through the paper towel, and it was obvious I couldn’t sit there without it dripping on the floor.

I was taken back to a room (where I passed the time taking pictures, of course).

When the nurse came in, I tried to make small talk.

“How’s your day been? It seems pretty quiet tonight.”

“It is not quiet tonight.”

So I stopped trying.

The doctor finally came in, told me to sleep with a towel under my hand in case it bled through the bandage, and if it did bleed through, to come back. And to go see another doctor on Monday to change the bandage.

(I didn’t know what was worse: the thought of coming back or waiting until Monday. I decided to go with Monday).

“Monday?!” I exclaimed.

She chuckled. “Yes Monday…nothing’s open tomorrow.”

Let me remind you: it was the tip of my finger. It was no “Sandy Hill”. I walked out with a bandage up my wrist. I felt like that bandage was so German.

What happened to liquid bandages?

Isn’t there a gel or something they put on wounds to stop the bleeding?

So, I moped around the rest of the weekend. I took a long walk on Sunday to get some fresh air and felt like I should have been pushed around in a wheelchair.

I got the bandage changed this morning and now it just covers my whole pinky with a string wrapped around my wrist. I have to go back on Wednesday.

In conclusion, the chips turned out amazing. I think the mandolin was worth it.