Wherein I am the dead horse

You guys! What is up with this year? And is it over yet because jesus, I can’t take anymore.  The kicks keep coming.

If you follow me on Twitter you know that I’ve been at my Dad’s this week in Connecticut and that yesterday Ben had the top of his finger cut off in a door. CUT OFF. OFF. As in I checked in the emergency room covered in blood, my face, neck, clothes and baby, “What can I help you with?” “My baby’s finger is in a ziplock bag.” “Right this way.”

I’ve been hurt a few times in my life, broken arm, a few surgeries, birthed two babies, broken my tailbone, slammed my finger in a car door and this was by far the most tramatizing event of my life. By. Far.

At first I thought he had “just” ripped his nail off but the blood, oh, my God, the blood. I ran down to the kitchen sink, for some reason, called for my step-mom and told her I didn’t think he was okay. She looked and said the tip of his finger was missing.  I screamed, and started crying in a way I’ve never cried before. She tried to wrap it up in a paper towel but it was bleeding so fast it was sort of useless. She asked me if I found his finger, I heaved into the sink. “No, I can’t, can you please go look for me, I cannot do it. I cannot.”

She found it, it was stuck to the door. She put in on ice and drove us to the hospital.

The staff was incredible. We were in and out of that hospital in 90 minutes, granted we are in Torrington which is a fairly small town but still. Intake, X-rays, finger sewing back on. We were on our way back in 90 minutes.

We don’t know if his finger will be okay or not. We know that his nail, if it ever grows back will be very deformed, permanently. We just wait a week or so and watch. Wait to see if it pink’s up (is pink’s a word?) or if it dies and turns blue/black. If it dies we will have to have it surgically removed and they will have to cut a flap to cover the new tip of his finger. Some of his bone was cut off as well, but they said that your bones grow from the joints not the tip so that wont be an issue. IF it doesn’t take his middle finger will be the same length of his ring finger. Gross but in the grand scheme of things, not that big of a deal for a boy. I mean, not really.

I want it to grow together, of course I do. I don’t want him to be anything other than perfect. I don’t want him to need surgery. But if he does, he does. All I can do is give him his antibiotics and motrin* and keep it clean and dry.

I just wish I could unsee the inside of my child. To unhear those primal screams. To turn back time and unclose that damn door. But I can’t. It is over. I just have to move on and hope this year will stop kicking me and my family while I am down and get off my lawn.

*sorry you cut your finger off, baby, but you dont weigh enough for real drugs, here’s some shit you can get over the counter. good luck.


6 thoughts on “Wherein I am the dead horse

  1. Oh C. I’m SO sorry. A good friend in high school lost two tips of fingers at the joints by sticking his hand too close to the lawnmower. Scary event, but didn’t slow him down a bit.


  2. Oh, Christina.

    In a few months, when I finally get to meet you, I will buy you the largest drink you can possibly handle.

    I am thinking of you, and sweet Ben. Let me know if there’s anything AT ALL I can do.

  3. Im so sorry little Ben…and Christina. I completely understand your desire to unsee, unhear, and unclose. Im praying for Ben and the family. As a mom I know you wish that you could just take it all away for him. Thank goodness children heal quicker than we do.


  4. My heart just aches for you! I suppose the one silver lining is that Ben won’t remember it at all. Still sending strength and prayers your way for Ben’s healing.

  5. Oh my gosh, I am just… ugh. I am so sorry about all this, and seriously it is SO your turn to NOT be the dead horse for a while. I wish you could unhear/unsee it all too. Sending lots of prayers and really, really wishing I could send you a drink. And a hug.

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