Not Short, Definitely NOT Sweet

If you have been a regular reader as I am just sure you are, you might not be seeing much written here for awhile.  I took some time off yesterday from my room to load some music onto my great new iPod® (thanks to all my great TWISTED SISTERS) as my husband left for Oklahoma in the a.m.  Then yesterday evening I decided I had better mow as two days earlier he asked when I was going to mow again.  My answer to him was “I am not the only person who lives here.”  He’s retired for goodness sake’s and had just spent the previous day doing absolutely nothing.  The particular day he made that remark, he had cut down and sawn up a suppressed oak tree for firewood and then took the rest of the day off.  For the last two months I have been cooking, cleaning, (if that’s what you call it), mowing the yard when it needed it and I have even helped him cut wood this spring when he did that without him asking me; AND keeping busy with my room almost daily.

So I get in my rattiest jeans, a pair I was going to throw out after I get through with my room, painting mainly and I check the oil and gas in the mower.  Great, he had filled it with gas and the oil is fine.  I get started about 4:30 or so.  I had one small (dusty) area mowed and was working on cutting out a bigger one with more grass.  We have two crape myrtles growing close together, just wide enough for the riding mower to pass through.  I went through those two trunks once with no problem.  The north trunk is huge.  I normally go through these two trunks east to west but this time I was going west to east and both the deck lever and clutch pedal would be on the side towards that larger, more angled trunk.  The smaller one grows straighter.  On that second pass, the deck lever gets caught on the west fork.  I think “No problem, just back up, turn a bit, and I’ll be through them.”  So I raise the deck with my left hand, the rear wheels were spinning, pushed the clutch in and put it in reverse and I did not move like I thought I would so I put it in forward with my hand still on the deck lever and the clutch pedal is wedged in an east fork without me noticing it.  The mower is still trying to go forward with my hand on the deck lever and the back, the pad, down to the first joint of my left ring finger is torn off.  I quickly disengage the deck, turn off the mower, peel my finger pad off the bark and race to the house.  I throw the key and ear plugs in the back screen door.  Then I run around and go through to the kitchen so I don’t get blood on my new 6 month old carpet!  The new laminate will clean.  I grab several paper towels, the pad I just curl in my bleeding hand, my purse and keys, lock the doors (which I thought I had forgot) and I drive myself to the ER.  Remember, Stan had gone to OK.  I arrive in the ER, very dusty and dirty, about 20 minutes later and glory be, I only had to fill out one short form and they took me right back.  It probably took well over an hour before I actually saw a doctor, but he said my injury is a very serious injury.  He had to consult a hand specialist.  He was also attending to a heart attack victim.  I think the heart attack  and my mangled finger were the highlights of the evening for the ER staff.  I had many people come in just to see it.  Doc finely comes back in after getting hold of either a hand specialist or a plastic surgeon.  He says as long as the pad is there, tack it on, and send her over to see me the next available appointment next week.  The Doc says I have a high tolerance to pain, I am not taking anything for pain except naproxen sodium even though he gave me something.  The only pain I have is around the nail and I figure it is because it is so thin, nothing to hold it and I barely feel it.  The Doc, who had a habit of calling the female patient ‘darling’, made me feel very relaxed about my situation.

So now I have a splint on my wrapped finger, hoping the tissue will “take”.  There is a chance it won’t, even though he said it looked very good.  If it doesn’t, they will amputate part of the finger, assuming down to the first joint.  Thank goodness it’s not my quilting hand, though I do type with both hands.  This has taken awhile to type without the use of that finger.

The bad part of all this, is I have a Dear  Jane® retreat starting Thursday next week.  Since my room is not done, I probably wouldn’t have been working on anything anyway, but now I could not have sewn even had I wanted to sew.  I guess I will sit there and listen to my new music on my iPod®.  Thanks again, guys.  You have saved this retreat for me.

Pray my tissue ‘takes'’…

Sarah