Greg and I had scheduled a date night yesterday. We had a 2 for 1 coupon for the Cineplex and we had decided to go see V for Vendetta at the StarCité in Hull, while my parents babysat. Encouraged by my recent exercising and healthy eating, I decided I would try on my wedding ring to see if it fit. Well, amazingly, I had shed some pounds on my finger because it slid beautifully over the top portion of my finger. Of course, even when it fit perfectly, I always had to shove it over the knuckle. My knuckle are big, but my finger is small - heck my ring size is 5.75 or something ridiculous like that. So - to shove or not to shove? I shoved.
Error in judgement!
It felt too snug, so I tried to get my ring off. It wouldn't come off. I tried cold water, olive oil, liquid soap - nothing was working. Meanwhile, the finger was getting swollen and red, and the tip was turning purple.
Eventually, I ended up at the nearest goldsmith, where they had to cut the ring off my finger. Two pincers go around the bottom, and then a toothed sawing wheel cuts through the top. It was tricky because the band is thick, and was on tightly. Unfortunately, my finger (or more precisely, the pad of flesh on my palm, just beneath my finger, was accidentally cut with the toothed wheel. There was blood everywhere, but it didn't actually hurt that much.
Anyhow, that is my story of gore and stupidity for this week.