
These unbelieveably good cookies are to blame for my needing surgery, which is scheduled for January 7th.
Specifically, this step in the cookie recipe:

I chopped a pound of chocolate by hand using a regular chef’s knife, and while I was doing it, I thought to myself, “Self, you shouldn’t be doing this, what with your carpal tunnel problems and all.” About half-way through, when my wrist was KILLING ME, I thought to myself, “Self, you really should stop now. This is stupid,” but I wanted to finish so I could make the cookies, and there was no one else home who could chop the chocolate for me.
So finish I did, and ended up with a nice pile of chopped up chocolate bar:

(no it’s not sitting on the paper/counter, it’s in a clear bowl which is sitting on those things)
Then I melted the chocolate:

Mixed everything up, and but the batter in the fridge:

Quick aside: That lid on the mixer bowl? It’s actually the lid from my dough-rising container from King Arthur Flour, and it fits the bowl of my Kitcheaid mixer PERFECTLY. This was completely accidental, of course, but I figured at least some of you out there might benefit from this wonderful coincidence the way I have!
Anyway, after finishing up all the other steps in this recipe (which is the most involved cookie recipe I’ve ever done, hands down), I ended up with 3 dozen amazing cookies:

And a crazy-sore wrist.
The next day, when I woke up? A huge cyst had appeared on that wrist. I went straight to the doctor, hoping he’d say it was nothing and just drain the thing and be done with it. He did drain it . . . but four hours later it was back, and larger than ever. To get rid of it I need surgery, and if I’m getting surgery on my wrist already, it seemed like a good idea to pair it with the carpal tunnel release surgery I’ve been putting off for, oh, 5 years.
So, there you have it. I’m having my carpal tunnel release/cyst removal surgery at the beginning of the year, and it’s all I can think about lately.
I sure hope I’ll be able to knit relatively soon after the surgery . . .
