Thursday, December 3, 2009

Heated ceramic explodes. Now I have proof.

I ran out of my medicine last night and didn't make it to the pharmacy until late this morning to get a refill. Consequently, I missed my morning dose and had a blood sugar spike after breakfast. It has been a long time since I have had one, and the feeling was so strange. My mind fell into this weird haze and I kept getting distracted from what I was trying to think about. Eventually I went for a walk to bring it down.

While I was on my walk, I ran into two black young men, and one of them was so friendly to me. I thought he was really nice, but his accent was so strong that I couldn't understand a word he was saying. It probably didn't help that my blood sugar was still high...! But I really couldn't understand him! I could tell he was asking me a question, but he got tired of trying to make conversation when my only reaction was to stare at him and say, "What!?" over and over again. It was kind of ridiculous and I eventually said, "Have a good day," and walked off. He probably thought I was mentally challenged or perhaps from a foreign country. (The South might as well be a foreign country, I tell you. I don't know if I can call what they speak down here English.)

When I got home, the house was cold and I decided to turn on the oven to heat it up a little. All the dials on our stove look the same and I accidentally turned one of the wrong ones....

I was sitting in the next room about five minutes later and heard a crackling sound. Then came a loud pop and the sound of something shattering. I went running into the kitchen to find pieces of an exploded ceramic plate all over the room. One of the burners was red hot and surrounded by the biggest pieces of the plate. I ran to turn off the burner, mystified that heated up ceramic explodes. It was a little frightening to pick up the pieces that had flown all the way across the room. Some of them were about the size of throwing stars and just as sharp.

For the rest of the day, I couldn't help imagining what would have happened had I been standing in the kitchen. I had fun imagining blazing hot ceramic shrapnel embedded in my belly. I suppose I would have called 911, although maybe I could have pulled it out myself. Would they have become burned into the skin?

I know. I'm macabre. :)