On Friday night, while in the process of trying to create a low-carb version of loaded baked potato soup, I had an accident. It was an accident that necessitated a trip to the Urgent Care and resulted in my current attempts to become at least partially right handed.
I amputated part of a finger.
Yeah, you read that correctly. Amputated. As in, I am missing a rather decent size chunk of my left index finger (I also managed to gouge my thumb along its entire length). You may also read this as: I am never using a mandolin slicer again. EVER.
I am beyond grateful that The Husband and Princess were home to help gather BabyA, wrap my gushing finger (I do not handle blood well if it belongs to me or my children), and drive me to Urgent Care after dropping the girls off at my parents' house. Amazingly, though I lost vision a few times and felt nauseated, I didn't actually pass out until I'd made it through triage and was sitting in a procedure room, waiting on the doctor.
God love The Husband. When I was attempting to keep pressure on my appendages while simultaneously directing Princess in the care and car-loading of BabyA, I turned to find him handing me a tiny tea cup full of ice. Being in shock, I didn't question it, and I'm glad I was sitting down and safely buckled into his truck before he told me that the cup contained the portion of my finger that had been removed. Just in case. I almost passed out when I saw it.
To ease your anticipation, let me just tell you now that, though the doctor was excited to see the fingertip, she made no attempt at reattaching it since the bone was (mercifully) still in tact. Though it was visible, and I could feel the doctor grab it with the clamps while she was tying off my severed blood vessels.
|Notice the aftercare paperwork says "Fingertip amputation is a common injury." Somehow, I have a feeling this is not the truth.|
I was given prescriptions for narcotics and antibiotics, and advised (I'm sure my face clearly said I would not be taking the pain medication) that the pain meds would not hurt Minion. While the pain was certainly not fun, I opted to take some Tylenol at night and avoid the narcotics altogether. I don't even like taking those types of things when I'm not pregnant. Besides, I needed my full faculties in order to be able to manage BabyA with limited use of my dominant hand. I also had to return to Urgent Care every other day to have my bandages changed and make sure the same doctor was keeping an eye on the healing process because there was a chance I'd have to see a surgeon.
It's now been five days, and my thumb is healing nicely. The doctor says my finger is, too, and I'm taking her word for it. I'm certainly the hit of the Urgent Care every time I go in (thankfully, I'm being trusted to care for my wounds at home for a week now instead of returning to Urgent Care every two days for care), and The Husband and my younger brother have had a lot of fun sharing the gruesome pictures. I can't say I don't enjoy some of the reactions I get when I show people pictures of my finger. As the doctor said on Friday night when she saw my thumb, "that's just not very interesting." Ironically, the cut on my thumb has been more constantly painful than my finger, and has made my life more difficult than the loss of my finger.
The swelling still hasn't completely subsided in my left hand, and I have numbness/tingling at the base of the injured finger. I am still basically useless when it comes to anything requiring fine motor skills. I've spent most of the week at my parents' house because changing BabyA's diaper is outside my ability unless she decides to cooperate (which is less than once a day, usually). I also had to switch to *gasp* disposables because I can't snap my cloth diapers with my fingers bandaged, and can't risk getting poop in my bandages while attempting to clean poop out of my diapers.
Tomorrow is going to be my first attempt at staying home since the accident. The Husband technically has the day off, but he just got done working 70ish hours in the past 5 days, and Thursdays are usually his "catch up on sleep" days.
Wish me luck...and keep your fingers crossed that BabyA doesn't decide to try and remove my bandage by force (again).
Bandage-free pictures after the jump...