Start from the beginning
All this time I had been confident that I had not done irreparable damage to my fingers. If you can cut a finger off and reattach it, then the fact that mine were still attached was better. Right?
Dr Barry came in to clean me up, and then he brought a friend, and then talk began of cutting off my finger. One of them explained that there was nothing to keep, all the bone in the first knuckle of my index finger was gone, "See." Tim had to sit down at that point. For me it still didn't sink in. An hour ago I was fine, how could I possibly be cutting off fingers now? was my thought. Apparently they decided to get more help and Tim began trying to prepare me for what was coming, gently edging me to understand that they were going to come back and want to take them off, tonight. I was reluctant to believe him.
Soon enough, 5 doctors/residents plus or minus a nurse or two came in and did just that. My mind began to race:
How could they be saying this, I still have fingers I can see them. ... Emily you are being irrational I was saying to myself It will be so ugly I don't want ugly fingers! ... That is just vain, plenty of people live without fingers ... I am young, That is a 'rest-of-my-life' thing.
Dr. Weinfeld must have discerned this, "OK it isn't like you don't have options, It is your finger, We can try. There is a small possibility that it could heal without a bone, that would mean you would have a pretty useless floppy fingertip, We can always cut it off later."
useless is fine as long as it looks normal I thought. I knew I would wonder forever if it could have been saved if I didn't try to save it now.
"OK then,"Tomorrow report to admissions at 9:00" said Dr Weinfeld, as another Dr sewed my fingers together again and wrapped them for the night "Here are prescriptions for the night, Vicodin, for pain, and Antibiotic, make sure to keep your hand elevated"
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Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The ER
Start at the beginning
What is it that makes ER employees so seemingly irritated that you've come in, regardless of whether or not you have a legitimate problem?
I suppose there is a point at which one can become so desensitized that compassion flies out the window. I saw probably 10+ persons, told every one of them that I needed to make sure my husband was called, they all said they would take care of it, and none of them did.
In the mean time, people kept floating in and out and I kept repeating, name, birthday, health insurance...
"When was your last tetanus shot?" one of them asked.
"When I sewed through my finger with a sewing machine..." I replied, as I was met with a dropped jaw, "It wasn't too long ago, you should have it in your records,"
"You know," you could tell he was amused, (as I had intended), "I am all for women and power tools, but in your case..."
"Yea, I know"
Finally I came upon a male nurse who actually listened to what was concerning me. (My personal opinion, Men make the best nurses.) He dialed the phone for me, the one that was three feet away, just out of my sight line, that anyone could have directed me to (yes, I'm bitter). Tim said he had been home about 15 min. or so and knew something was wrong though he kept telling himself that I could have been absent minded enough to leave the garage open, and the radio on, and all the lights in the house on; when the phone rang, his heart sank.
When he arrived he did very good. He walked in to see me sitting, bleeding, with my mangled fingers in the air, his expression didn't change, and I turned into a puddle. with Tim there I didn't have to be a big girl anymore. Then came the Doctors.
More
What is it that makes ER employees so seemingly irritated that you've come in, regardless of whether or not you have a legitimate problem?
I suppose there is a point at which one can become so desensitized that compassion flies out the window. I saw probably 10+ persons, told every one of them that I needed to make sure my husband was called, they all said they would take care of it, and none of them did.
In the mean time, people kept floating in and out and I kept repeating, name, birthday, health insurance...
"When was your last tetanus shot?" one of them asked.
"When I sewed through my finger with a sewing machine..." I replied, as I was met with a dropped jaw, "It wasn't too long ago, you should have it in your records,"
"You know," you could tell he was amused, (as I had intended), "I am all for women and power tools, but in your case..."
"Yea, I know"
Finally I came upon a male nurse who actually listened to what was concerning me. (My personal opinion, Men make the best nurses.) He dialed the phone for me, the one that was three feet away, just out of my sight line, that anyone could have directed me to (yes, I'm bitter). Tim said he had been home about 15 min. or so and knew something was wrong though he kept telling himself that I could have been absent minded enough to leave the garage open, and the radio on, and all the lights in the house on; when the phone rang, his heart sank.
When he arrived he did very good. He walked in to see me sitting, bleeding, with my mangled fingers in the air, his expression didn't change, and I turned into a puddle. with Tim there I didn't have to be a big girl anymore. Then came the Doctors.
More
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