The Strawberry Slicester from Heaven and Aichmophobia

If you were to look in my grocery cart during the past decade, you would be more likely to find a fruit cake than fruit. Bizarre? Probably. Why? A fruit cake will last five to nine years; strawberries go bad in a matter of days. Fruit = high maintenance.

But I decided last week that I needed to change my fruit-buying habits and make a better effort to incorporate fruit. Now, when I typically decide to do something like this, I either make it a game (such as this little sugar bet with myself) or buy something to help me (like new socks for running). Well, this time I decided to buy myself several simple fruit gadgets. I actually picked up three, but one stood out like a shinning star. I call it the Strawberry Slicester from Heaven (SSH).

I have used the SSH almost every day this week, mainly for strawberry slices to add to paninis. (Try it. I promise it's what you're looking for in life.) The SSH also makes eating strawberries much more enjoyable on their own. I don't know if it's because of the fun of using the device or that the strawberries just look much prettier to eat.

However, I did run across a problem early on. I managed to cut myself on the SSH. Now it's actually a very safe device, but I accidentally pressed on one of the blades fairly hard while cleaning it. This resulted in a good slice of my thumb.

This was somewhat a problem. My thumb was fine after bleeding for a while. But I have a fairly mild case of aichmophobia (self-diagnosed of course), which according to Wikipedia is "a fear of sharp things, such as pencils, needles, knives, a pointing finger, or even the sharp end of an umbrella."

When I read the description, my jaw dropped to see that pointing fingers were included. I actually have had a problem with people poking me in the arm with their finger ever since high school. It reminds me of getting a shot, which is never a good thing.

Last January, I had to get five shots for a trip I went on. After the fifth shot, I was on the community clinic floor with my legs in the air with a skirt and heels on. The nurse said this would help. It totally did.

So, when I cut my thumb pretty badly, I thought, "Dang it. There goes my love for that gadget. Go breathe between your legs so you don't pass out."

But this week I read about an experiment in Palo Alto about several hundred people who had a paralyzing fear of snakes. Within three hours they were all cured. How? First they were asked to watch a therapist handle a snake at the door of a room. Then they were asked to walk in the room while the therapist held the snake. Some requested to wear hockey and other protective equipment at this point. They progressively took the participants towards the snake. Then the participants watched others with the same fear hold the snake. Within about three hours, they held the snake. From the study, they gathered that if you give a phobic a positive vicarious experience to test their inaccurate beliefs, most can be quickly cured.

So, I went and watched a couple people mutilate their thumbs on the Internet. This terrified me. But the great thing is that it made my thumb cut look like a minor flesh wound (which is exactly what it was.) I decided to stop acting like a baby and go make my panini. The good news is that the SSH and I have continued to be great friends. I encourage everyone to buy one.