Want part 1? click here.
I haven't mentioned much about the surgeon. Dr. Hands was apparently the best in the business, but had little to NO bedside manner. Remember the migraine? And the 3 needles they stabbed in my hand trying to get the IV in? And the nearly 24 hours I'd gone without eating? I'm in tears as the nurse (who felt like she had the experience of a janitor as she stabbed my hand over and over) tried to get the needle in my hand and my mom wasn't there and I was totally alone, and Dr. Hands walked in and said "What's the problem? Why are you crying?"
I refused to talk to him. And by the way....signing papers that say that there is a possibility you might die in surgery is completely frightening.
I obviously don't remember the surgery, and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing, but when I came out I had a giant cast on my arm up to my elbow. Basically my left hand was in a fist, with my finger sewn into the soft part of my hand at the base of my thumb. You read that right, it was SEWN INTO MY HAND. They cut a slit open and tucked my finger inside to get the blood vessels to regrow in the fingertip.
A friend came to pick me up and after picking up a prescription for Vicodin, I made it home, where my mom was waiting for me and my giant cast. I spent the next three weeks sleeping on the couch, with my arm propped up on two pillows. The first few days I was completely out of it, barely getting up for the bathroom, and watching a LOT of reruns. My arm started to itch pretty soon...especially my palm, and there was some swelling all up and down my arm. It was almost impossible to take a shower, and sewing was out of the question.
Meanwhile, remember, I was out of a job and was using valuable summer job-hunting time on the couch, but I had fortunately gotten most of the general stuff out of the way. I had a lot of recommendation letters photocopied, and spent a lot of time filling out job applications, stuffing envelopes and sending application packets off. After 2.5 weeks on the couch, I went back in for a second surgery where the surgeon disconnected my hand and my finger and put me in a finger cast. My fingers were so stiff after 3 weeks without moving that I couldn't open my hand all the way and all the creases of my hand were dark red and cracked almost through all the layers of skin. I put lotion on about 48 times a day for the next two weeks.
My stitches were removed about a week after the second surgery but the scabs stayed on for several more weeks. I had to go to physical therapy, although I only went three times and then decided I could rub lotion in and move my fingers by myself without help.
It took about 6 months to get all the movement back in my fingers and over a year for most of the scars to be pain free. My finger looks totally normal to most people, although I can definitely tell the difference. My left index fingernail is quite a bit smaller than the right hand one and the tip is still kind of slanted. I have feeling in most of the finger, except for just a small area at the side of my fingertip.
What is the moral of this story? Be careful, even when doing something that's not dangerous. Sewers and crafters use sharp implements and it only takes a second to totally change your life. I was lucky. I cut as much of my finger off as I could without hitting bone. If I had hit bone, I would have been in serious trouble. So...be careful, pay attention to what you are doing, and always, ALWAYS check where your fingers are.
I'm at the coast with my family, so I will be going into computer withdrawal until Thursday....I'll see you then!
Showing posts with label finger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finger. Show all posts
7.31.2009
Fingers are Important Appendages - Part 1
This is a shoutout for my new friend Joan....who found me after searching the internet looking for other people who don't pay attention while sewing. =) Also, this started getting really long, so I broke it up into multiple posts.
Everyone thinks that sewing is a pretty safe hobby...something that your grandmother does. But I can't think of very many hobbies, short of sword swallowing, that involve quite so many sharp objects. Think about it: pins, needles, scissors, a machine that jabs needles through whatever is in the way without stopping, and my main topic today...rotary cutters.
Do a search on google for "I cut off the tip of my finger with a rotary cutter" and you will quickly see I am not alone...but maybe I can prevent you from doing something like this too.
A little over two years ago, I was making some major changes in my life. I am a teacher by trade, and at the time was living in Dallas, Texas, teaching at a very large high school. I had been teaching there for 5 years, and had been in Texas for ten years total including college and knew that it was time to leave. I wanted to move back to the Northwest, where I grew up. So I turned in my resignation and started looking for jobs in Oregon and Washington. School ended in Texas the Friday of Memorial Day weekend and I was facing the completely unknown. That Friday night, I was working on a baby blanket for a friend while watching the Cavaliers play, and not paying attention to what I was doing.
That's when I sliced the tip of my left index finger off. There it was...laying there on the table. It didn't hurt at first, so I walked over to get a paper towel, and then I realized that I'd cut off a LOT more than I had originally thought. In fact, I had cut from the bottom right corner of my fingernail to the top center of my fingertip, and in fact had nicked my middle finger as well, although I didn't realize that at the time. I live alone, so I had no choice: I picked up the fingertip, my keys, and my purse, and drove to the PrimaCare place less than a block from my apartment complex.
It was about 8:03 when I pulled up, blood dripping down my arm and off my elbow and I'm sure I was completely white by that point, I was feeling a bit sick. The place was closed, but they had just closed at 8, so one of the people in the waiting room opened the door - I'm sure the 5 or 6 kids sitting there had some serious nightmares that night.
The doctor stitched the tip back on, but told me that I would need to go see a hand surgeon as soon as I could. He also gave me a prescription for painkillers and told me to keep my hand elevated. By the time I left it was about 9:30 pm and I went to try and find an all-night Walgreens that also had an all-night pharmacy. Guess what. Those aren't so easy to find. I ended up about 25 miles away, and to make a long story short, my best friend, who was in the midst of moving across Texas, ended up driving me home as I was getting a bit loopy and very teary-eyed from the shock, the stress and the painkillers.
Tuesday I went to the hand surgeon, and he told me that my finger was dead and that there was no way he could save it as it was....I was scheduled for surgery the next day. I called my mom and hysterically poured out the whole thing and asked if she could come down the next day to take care of me. While she worked on that, I psyched myself up for surgery. Another friend drove me to the hospital and I spent 6 hours waiting for surgery alone with a migraine and no pillow (stolen by the family members of the other person in the room), curled into the fetal position on my bed while nurses checked the patient next to me and never checked on me once. I finally asked for a pillow after 3 hours, which I got, and migraine medication, which I didn't.
Because I was the last surgery of the day, I didn't end up having surgery until around 6:30 or later that night (I don't really remember). I have small veins in my hands(or they are deeply buried, or something) so the nurse stabbed me 3 times before they finally called an ER nurse up to get the IV in. I was in tears by this time because I was so freaked out and still totally by myself. Oh, and remember that migraine? Yeah...still there, and I hadn't eaten since about 10 pm the night before.
Part 2 tomorrow. =)
Everyone thinks that sewing is a pretty safe hobby...something that your grandmother does. But I can't think of very many hobbies, short of sword swallowing, that involve quite so many sharp objects. Think about it: pins, needles, scissors, a machine that jabs needles through whatever is in the way without stopping, and my main topic today...rotary cutters.
Do a search on google for "I cut off the tip of my finger with a rotary cutter" and you will quickly see I am not alone...but maybe I can prevent you from doing something like this too.
A little over two years ago, I was making some major changes in my life. I am a teacher by trade, and at the time was living in Dallas, Texas, teaching at a very large high school. I had been teaching there for 5 years, and had been in Texas for ten years total including college and knew that it was time to leave. I wanted to move back to the Northwest, where I grew up. So I turned in my resignation and started looking for jobs in Oregon and Washington. School ended in Texas the Friday of Memorial Day weekend and I was facing the completely unknown. That Friday night, I was working on a baby blanket for a friend while watching the Cavaliers play, and not paying attention to what I was doing.
That's when I sliced the tip of my left index finger off. There it was...laying there on the table. It didn't hurt at first, so I walked over to get a paper towel, and then I realized that I'd cut off a LOT more than I had originally thought. In fact, I had cut from the bottom right corner of my fingernail to the top center of my fingertip, and in fact had nicked my middle finger as well, although I didn't realize that at the time. I live alone, so I had no choice: I picked up the fingertip, my keys, and my purse, and drove to the PrimaCare place less than a block from my apartment complex.
It was about 8:03 when I pulled up, blood dripping down my arm and off my elbow and I'm sure I was completely white by that point, I was feeling a bit sick. The place was closed, but they had just closed at 8, so one of the people in the waiting room opened the door - I'm sure the 5 or 6 kids sitting there had some serious nightmares that night.
The doctor stitched the tip back on, but told me that I would need to go see a hand surgeon as soon as I could. He also gave me a prescription for painkillers and told me to keep my hand elevated. By the time I left it was about 9:30 pm and I went to try and find an all-night Walgreens that also had an all-night pharmacy. Guess what. Those aren't so easy to find. I ended up about 25 miles away, and to make a long story short, my best friend, who was in the midst of moving across Texas, ended up driving me home as I was getting a bit loopy and very teary-eyed from the shock, the stress and the painkillers.
Tuesday I went to the hand surgeon, and he told me that my finger was dead and that there was no way he could save it as it was....I was scheduled for surgery the next day. I called my mom and hysterically poured out the whole thing and asked if she could come down the next day to take care of me. While she worked on that, I psyched myself up for surgery. Another friend drove me to the hospital and I spent 6 hours waiting for surgery alone with a migraine and no pillow (stolen by the family members of the other person in the room), curled into the fetal position on my bed while nurses checked the patient next to me and never checked on me once. I finally asked for a pillow after 3 hours, which I got, and migraine medication, which I didn't.
Because I was the last surgery of the day, I didn't end up having surgery until around 6:30 or later that night (I don't really remember). I have small veins in my hands(or they are deeply buried, or something) so the nurse stabbed me 3 times before they finally called an ER nurse up to get the IV in. I was in tears by this time because I was so freaked out and still totally by myself. Oh, and remember that migraine? Yeah...still there, and I hadn't eaten since about 10 pm the night before.
Part 2 tomorrow. =)
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