Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. Do I have a story for you! Ever wondered what happens when you dump an entire bowl of (literally) boiling noodle water all over your two leggies very late on a Saturday night? Me freaking neither, but I sure as heck found out last weekend! Buckle up, folks, because you’re in for an article-long rant about why you should never let me near any sort of kitchen appliance ever again! I present to you: The Noodle Incident. No noodles were harmed in the making of this article. Just kidding. They were harmed. My laptop was harmed. I was harmed. Everything is pain. Enjoy.
Last Saturday at goodness-knows-what late hour, I decided to make use of those really yummy-looking noodle packets my parents had lovingly picked out for me over winter break. I (sort of) followed the instructions, which told me to boil water in a pot over a stove (very safe) but I thought I’d just stick everything in the microwave instead because I’m lazy (very dumb).
Everything was going super well, my noodles were almost ready, and I had set up my laptop on my bed with an episode of One Day At A Time. As I was preparing to slide under the covers with a nice, warm bowl of noodles, something must’ve caused me to spasm or drop the bowl (I no longer remember what it was) because before I knew what was happening, a stream of boiling hot noodle water was cascading down my legs. Amazing! Also, R.I.P my laptop, who also fell victim to the noodle water.
After much screaming, some phone calls to friends (who quickly arrived on the scene– shoutout to all three of my rescuers), a lot of pain and plenty of panic later, I found myself in the back of the Kenyon Fire Department’s EMT truck with an IV sticking out of my arm (I would like to take this moment in time to thank the EMT squad. You are all brave, kind, dedicated individuals and are highkey a band of superheroes). My legs were still hurting, cool, and they were also starting to Be Really Gross because the stupid noodle water had given me some really nice second-degree burns. Because of this, I didn’t get to appreciate how cool it was that I was riding in the back of a big, red emergency truck!!! Stupid noodle water.
The EMT squad quickly drove me to the hospital, where I was exposed to morphine for the first time. From what I can remember, it was apparently quite entertaining for my companions to watch the effects of hospital drugs on my tiny, easily intoxicated body. I liked the paintings on the hospital wall. I was amused by the pressure cuff on my arm. And most importantly, I really appreciated my friends helping me out — seriously, they are, like, the best. Everything was all great and floaty until I had to actually get up and start moving. That’s when my incredibly loyal group of pals broke out the wheelchair. And their cameras.
We made it back to campus at some godforsaken hour and I crawled back into bed like the wounded little cretin that I am. Today I actually got a good look at my legs for the first time. They are disgusting. I am disgusting. And hopefully I will heal in 2-3 weeks.
So. Moral of the story? Don’t bring your noodles into bed. Also, you know friends are the greatest when they drive you home from the hospital with you complaining about the side-effects of morphine the whole way. Thank you to everyone who helped me not die that night. My legs and I are very grateful. It’s definitely going to be a while before I make myself noodles again.