Erin Allman-Updike

Uh-huh.

And I see a marshmallow on the ground near the fire.

Never wanting a marshmallow to go to waste, I pick it up.

And it takes a few seconds to register that what I was holding was not in fact a delicious marshmallow, but it was a white hot ember that had shot out of the fire and into the grass.

It looked just like a marshmallow.

Ugh.

And I had a rough time for a few days, but ultimately it was a very minor burn, like very minor, right?

I iced my fingers, I covered them in aloe, I soaked them in water, cold water overnight, like, and I was fine.

This story is not unique.

And I'm sure everyone has a story just like this or one much, much more severe because I was extremely lucky.

Hundreds of millions of people are burned every year, which is, I would guess, a conservative estimate.

And nearly 200,000 lose their lives around the globe every year due to burn injuries.

Mm-hmm.

Burns are a routine feature of our lives as human beings, and that's been the case for a very long time.

My story of picking up a white hot ember, not only is that a common story today, it's been a common story for hundreds of thousands of years, at least.

Wow.

At least.

Many a paper that describes the history of burn treatment starts off with some variation of ever since man discovered fire, he's had to deal with burns.

So many of them start just like that.

And it's the truth.