A burned hand can take the savor out of even very good tuna steak.
This was good tuna steak, but it would have been better if I'd remembered that I was supposed to cut the hunk of tuna into two thinner steaks; by the time
cattitude walked into the kitchen and pointed this out, one side was already seared, so it was too late. Okay, we'll have a very thick steak, cooked a bit longer, and cut in half the other way when it's done.
I was cooking it over a high light, to sear properly. When I turned it, the olive oil spattered and burned my hand. I ran lots of water on it, and then wound up soaking it in my glass of ice water while we were eating. After dinner, I applied tea tree oil. A few minutes later, I rinsed it off again, because it seemed to be making things worse, and the rinsing seemed to help.
It appeared, on further experience, that what helped was the cool water, not the removal of the oil, but I didn't feel like re-applying it. Maybe in the morning.
The burned area is from just past the first knuckle (counting from the fingertip) to about the second knuckle of my index and middle fingers, on my right hand. I understand why it's my dominant hand and arm that keep having problems. Knowing that doesn't make it less annoying.
This was good tuna steak, but it would have been better if I'd remembered that I was supposed to cut the hunk of tuna into two thinner steaks; by the time
I was cooking it over a high light, to sear properly. When I turned it, the olive oil spattered and burned my hand. I ran lots of water on it, and then wound up soaking it in my glass of ice water while we were eating. After dinner, I applied tea tree oil. A few minutes later, I rinsed it off again, because it seemed to be making things worse, and the rinsing seemed to help.
It appeared, on further experience, that what helped was the cool water, not the removal of the oil, but I didn't feel like re-applying it. Maybe in the morning.
The burned area is from just past the first knuckle (counting from the fingertip) to about the second knuckle of my index and middle fingers, on my right hand. I understand why it's my dominant hand and arm that keep having problems. Knowing that doesn't make it less annoying.
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(Or possibly empathy, as I burned my neck this morning. Quarter-sized blister from a grits splatter. Boiling milk, oW! What a day for cooking incidents.)
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Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
I do not, frankly, understand the bio-mechanics of burning well enough to understand why on earth this should be true. It makes no sense to me to say, as I have had many instructors tell me and I have observed in action for myself, that tissue goes on burning for some time after the source of the injury has been removed, so that there is some damaging heat still in the injury that can be 'sealed in.' It sounds like mumbo-jumbo to me, and while I have no actual objections to mumbo-jumbo at all - I have a friend who can talk the fire out of burns, and I'm always happy to avail myself of her services when she's around - I like to have some sense of which is which. But whatever. It's true.
Aloe really is seriously good for burns. After at least 24 hours, if you want an oil to put on to help it heal faster (rather than to prevent infection, which shouldn't be an issue unless the skin is broken) you could see about getting St. Johns Wort oil. It's supposed to be very good for burns.
Okay, done spooting information and opinions, now. I'm sorry you got burned - it's *so* annoying.
I like my tuna /hot/, rather than actually /cooked/, so a very thick steak seared on a high heat on the outside and still translucent on the inside sounds perfect to me. I hope it was good.
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Re: Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
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Re: Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
On your hand, however, what's more likely (if your hand is anyhing like mine, at least) is that you run your hand under cold water for a minute, which feels good. After a minute, you get tired of being immobilized at the sink and dammit, it was just a minor burn, anyhow, so you pull your hand out and dry it off. You touch the burned area gently with your left forefinger, and sure enough, it feels cool to the touch. You go back to what you were doing. Within five minutes, your hand is hurting again. You try to ignore it, fail, and touch the burn again - and now it's hot again.
Increased blood circulation to damaged tissue, right? But that doesn't explain why, if you just let it sting and hurt, the burn will be much worse the next day than if you go back and run cool water over it, or wrap an icecube in a washcloth and hold that on it for the next fifteen or twenty minutes - however long it takes until the burning sensation (I sound like I'm talking about a UTI, sheesh) stops coming back.
What I'm trying to say is, there's more "heat in there" than can be accounted for by the sheer biophysics of the burn.
This is also true of radiation burns, as anyone knows who's come in from the sun, checked themselves, said "Oh, I'm fine! Maybe a little pink on the tops of my shoulders, but it doesn't hurt!" and then discovered they had a lobster-red sunburn three hours later. I don't know whether this is true of electrical or chemical burns: I haven't had the chance to find out first hand, and that's not the kind of detail you learn while teaching for the Red Cross. If I am unfortunate enough to have the opportunity to discver, I'll certainly make a note of it.
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Re: Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
Anyone actually know? It's a good question.
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Re: Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
The example I always remember is a young girl who pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove all over her arms; there happened to be a bucket of water nearby that she immersed her arms into, but wasn't quite deep enough, resulting in her having, when she grew up, perfectly unmarked arms except for a band of scarring from third degree burns around her upper arms.
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Re: Pardon me while I first aid-geek at you. It's a muscular tic of some kind.
The thing where it continues to generate heat and seems to deepen the injury well after the initial heat has been removed has held true in my experiene of first degree burns and second degree burns. I've been lucky enough not to have experience with third degree burns, so I can't say first hand for that. (And, weird though it may seem, if I ever do get one, you can bet there will be some part of my mind paying attention and cataloguing that very thing.)
Third degree burns--
**** Don't read this if you're squeamish ***
****** No, I mean it. *******
-- which is to say, burns which go all the way through both the epidermis and the dermis and into the tissue beneath (first degree: red, damage to the epidermis/protective layers of dead skin, second degree: blisters, damage to the epidermis and the dermis/live skin, third degree: damage right through the skin, nothing left to make blisters with, possible charred marks, go to the ER now), I believe work the same way, but the problem is that the tissue is so damaged that you have to be ultra careful that your treatment doesn't make things worse. For one thing, they're incredibly easily infected. For another, both the physical pressure of water, especially running water, or anything else, and the temperature can cause further damage. If you tried ice, for instance, you'd likely kill the tissue, and have, essentially, frostbite on your burn. So even though I /believe/ that the pattern is true of all heat and radiation burns, regardless of severity, recommended treatment will be different.
Sorry to get so graphic. I taught First Aid for the Red Cross for a year or so, and these things tend to stick with you. You should see to pictures they have. Or, well, perhaps you shouldn't. :}
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