A Journey of a Thumb
The post about getting a finger slammed in a door made me think it was time finally tell this story. I know I've touched on this story before but never in detail.
I was in the 6th grade(~13 years ago) and we had the heavy, thick wooden doors that would slam shut if you just lightly tapped it. So it was after lunch and a boy and I were the first ones back, I was leaning out of the door, my hand on the door frame, my thumb in the groove of the frame when he walked out of the room, accidentally touching the door causing the door to shut. As a reaction, I jerked my hand from the door and clutched it to my chest. It hurt, it hurt really, really bad but I thought it was okay, no big deal.
My teacher and the rest of the class came up and she wanted to take a look and I refused because it just hurt so bad. Then blood began to drip out from my hand.
She took a look and sent me down to the office, I had severed my thumb from my hand, nothing holding it on but a strand of tissue and a tendon. By this time I was going into shock and I had to wait til the office got a hold of one of my parents. The receptionist told me a story of how her brother got horned by a bull through the under side of his chin, how she thought this was going to calm me, I don't know.
Thirty minutes later, my mom made it and took me the hospital where the couldn't do anything about this (wtf?) but they sent me to a sports rehabilitation center a few blocks away where they promptly injected my thumb with five shots of numbing medication(this hurt so fucking much) and proceeding to reattach my thumb and save what they could of my nail bed that had been completely destroyed. I was in deep shock by this point, my breathing was low, I was shivering and I felt everything.
I left a couple of hours later with thirty stitches, a shit load of pain killers, no nail and a nice bandaged thumb.
A few months later, my thumb nail started going back and I was moved up to wear a thumb splint, that was an amazing contraption by the way, and as my nail grew, I noticed a black blister of sorts forming on the edge and it would give off the most horrific smell when I cleaned it and my mom decided it was time to get this checked out.
It had become infected and the only source of clearing it was to once again remove my thumb nail, this time it was a painless experience.
So a year later, I got rid of the splint and I had a regrown nail and I had to go to therapy to try and regain some feeling and movement in the thumb.
So after all these years, I have no knuckle on that thumb, it's colder than any part of my body, it often feels like someone else's thumb, the nail is hard and rigid and the thumb itself is wonky. I often have to keep the nail really short because if it grows over one of the scars, it hurts. I can pop it endlessly and nail polish would last forever on it.
I was in the 6th grade(~13 years ago) and we had the heavy, thick wooden doors that would slam shut if you just lightly tapped it. So it was after lunch and a boy and I were the first ones back, I was leaning out of the door, my hand on the door frame, my thumb in the groove of the frame when he walked out of the room, accidentally touching the door causing the door to shut. As a reaction, I jerked my hand from the door and clutched it to my chest. It hurt, it hurt really, really bad but I thought it was okay, no big deal.
My teacher and the rest of the class came up and she wanted to take a look and I refused because it just hurt so bad. Then blood began to drip out from my hand.
She took a look and sent me down to the office, I had severed my thumb from my hand, nothing holding it on but a strand of tissue and a tendon. By this time I was going into shock and I had to wait til the office got a hold of one of my parents. The receptionist told me a story of how her brother got horned by a bull through the under side of his chin, how she thought this was going to calm me, I don't know.
Thirty minutes later, my mom made it and took me the hospital where the couldn't do anything about this (wtf?) but they sent me to a sports rehabilitation center a few blocks away where they promptly injected my thumb with five shots of numbing medication(this hurt so fucking much) and proceeding to reattach my thumb and save what they could of my nail bed that had been completely destroyed. I was in deep shock by this point, my breathing was low, I was shivering and I felt everything.
I left a couple of hours later with thirty stitches, a shit load of pain killers, no nail and a nice bandaged thumb.
A few months later, my thumb nail started going back and I was moved up to wear a thumb splint, that was an amazing contraption by the way, and as my nail grew, I noticed a black blister of sorts forming on the edge and it would give off the most horrific smell when I cleaned it and my mom decided it was time to get this checked out.
It had become infected and the only source of clearing it was to once again remove my thumb nail, this time it was a painless experience.
So a year later, I got rid of the splint and I had a regrown nail and I had to go to therapy to try and regain some feeling and movement in the thumb.
So after all these years, I have no knuckle on that thumb, it's colder than any part of my body, it often feels like someone else's thumb, the nail is hard and rigid and the thumb itself is wonky. I often have to keep the nail really short because if it grows over one of the scars, it hurts. I can pop it endlessly and nail polish would last forever on it.