Drowning in the Sink

I'm in the water all the time. I grew up swimming in lakes and in the pool. I used to swim competitively, and if I was going to drown, it was going to be during a swim practice.

I plan vacations around water activities, such as rafting, swimming, wave pools, beaches, etc. I know the danger of drowning, and try to be careful.

However, I never thought I would drown in my kitchen sink. Of all the ways to go.

When someone in the house LOVES spicy foods, the other person must always be on alert. Like, when Chris placed the hottest hot sauce known to man on a burger but couldn't remember which one, it was I that found the the extremely hot burger.

I took the smallest bit of burger I could, and quickly dunked my mouth in milk while shoving slices of bread into it, trying to squelch the burning sensation. After an hour I was able to finally recover from the fire on my tongue.

This hot sauce is so hot, Chris will kiss me after eating it and my lips burn.

He thinks he's funny.

I've learned to watch out for extra peppers or spices in food. I always check to make sure my half of dinner is not contaminated by hot sauce or extra peppers.

Exercising caution was for naught.

Oh the pain! The pain! It is worse than chlorine, shampoo, dust/dirt, or a scratch. I have never felt anything as bad as I did when habanero remnants got in my eye.

I washed my hands three times after cutting up habanero peppers last night for nachos. I was sitting on the couch, while Chris was in the kitchen cleaning up, when my eye itched. Not thinking of the peppers I had just cut, I rubbed my eye.

I went blind.

The burn felt like someone was sticking a hot poker into my left eye. In hopes of flushing it out, I squired eye drops into my left eye. It made it worse. So much worse, than my right eye began developing sympathy pains and began burning, as well.

I'm screaming.

Chris is trying to fix this, while keeping dinner from burning in the oven.

"What can I do?" He asked.

"I dunno, hold on," I told him while I searched the Internet for a solution to my burning eyes. Through the tears, and the slits my eyes had become I began reading.

Note to people making websites. I don't care how you got pepper in your eye, tell me how to get it out! Information first, your sad story, second.

Every website that offered help, did not. Instead, the sites were filled with personal stories of the pain I was in. Not once did the site offer help.

Finally, I was able to find something on the poison control website.

Flush eyes out with water. This is actually their advice, no matter what gets in your eye. From bleach, to ink, to paint. Flush it with water, then call 911.

Tired of waiting for me, Chris filled a cup with water and told me to look into the bottom of the glass.

I shove my head to the rim of the glass, but the burning was as intense as it was before. He gets me a bigger glass. I still can't get my eye into the water. I'm starting to panic now, with the idea I will never see again.

Giving up on cups, Chris grabbed a large mixing bowl filled it with water and I shoved my head in.

Water went up my nose, since the mixing bowl was not large enough for me to blow air through it, without causing bubbles to go over my head. I was drowning in my kitchen sink in an Ikea mixing bowl.

I hate the feeling of water up my nose. It's worse than falling on my tailbone, or whacking my "funny bone."

I came up sputtering, water dripping from my hair, nose, and ears. My eyes still burned. So, down I went for round two. Trying to get over the feeling of drowning, I focused on the bottom of the bowl.

After the second round of my head in the mixing bowl, I could open my eyes.

I gave each eye a little squirt with the eye drops, and let the burning sensation die down.

Plastic might be used next time I cut up habanero peppers, or I'll just let Chris do it.

Death Trap Money Pit

Gas leaks and Carbon Monoxide poisoning, fires and earthquakes, fallen tree limbs and hornets nests in the eaves, ROUSs in the crawl space and raccoons in the chimney, collapsing roof and flooded house, leaking ducts and pipes, uninsulated attic and a rotting exterior.

A house is nothing more then impending doom. I'm on the verge of a Seattle-Freak Out.

You don't know the Seattle-Freak Out?

It is when you completely over react to something so minor the rest of the world barely bats an eyelash.

Snow in Seattle? Insert The Freak Out of people running around like headless chickens on fire. Roads were closed, schools were cancelled, businesses shutdown, people ransacked the grocery store, and then we waited for it to snow.

Sun in Seattle? People begin screaming about how the world is going to end and it is the beginning signs of the Rapture. It is a very difficult month for people here.

Rain in Seattle? There is a rush on Home Depot and everyone begins building an arc. In the event of a flooding we are all prepared.

Because I am not entirely crazy, I reserve my freak outs for when they matter; like during a home inspection.

I know it is the inspector's job to find everything that is wrong with the house, but all I could think when the CO monitor topped out at 2,000 when anything over 100 is considered high I was on the verge of throwing my arms above my head and begin sprinting around the neighborhood screaming, "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

Then sanity set in. One, you can not appear crazy to your new neighbors before you move in. We do not want to be that house. Two, the CO monitor was only high in close distance to the furnace, and read zero in the house.

We will not die by CO poisoning in the next four weeks. However, the fear of death in a house hit me.

There are a million things that can go wrong in a house. Insert a screaming, hand waving nutcase.

No, not really. I kept my composure and did the Seattle-Freak Out in the privacy of my apartment where the neighbors already know I am crazy.

Then, it was time to gain perspective. Home Depot makes all house repairs easy and somewhat affordable. They teach you how to insulate and install drywall. People renovate their homes all the time. Everyone that has ever bought a house has had to fix something.

We shall join them. Our house may be a money pit, but it will not be a death trap.