Fingers as at 9th October 2013 I have been physically and emotionally challenged over the last week and this has made it a little hard to type up a blog post. Writer’s block was not the issue (in fact there has been an abundance of topics to comment upon) but instead a bio-mechanical matter has been the constraint upon my creativity.
On Sunday 6th October I had an accident in my back garden. Unfortunately the accident involved a Black & Decker electric chainsaw and four of my fingers. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the four fingers affected were/are on my right (and in this case ‘write’) hand!
The ‘are’ you may already be appreciating is the most important word in the previous sentence. I still have all my fingers attached to my person and that’s not because they have been sewn back on either!
In my own defence, I recently took down a tree that was two-storeys high. I did it on my own and without any problems at all – so I wasn’t a chainsaw virgin.
On this occasion, I was up a eucalyptus tree for the purpose of cutting it back (and had already lopped a number of branches) when the ‘incident’ occurred. Having cut through a thick’ish’ branch, I was in the unfortunate position of having it springing back into me instead of dropping to the ground (initially it dropped but then as its downward momentum was halted by next door’s garage roof, the motion transferred into a forward direction – eucalyptus I have proved is fairly springy/bouncy (although that’s obviously not a technical term). That forward motion meant the branch came at me.
At the time, I was at the top of a ladder and some eight feet off the ground!
As I was knocked backwards, the chainsaw came up, this wasn't too worrying because by that point my hands were off the power switches and the blade’s rotation was slowing down. I still had the chainsaw in my left hand but unfortunately as I started wobbling on the ladder, I brought my right hand up to steady myself – and in doing so caught my fingers on the blade.
I’ll be honest, I uttered a short sentence that was peppered with expletives and then had to assess the situation. Already my fingers were bleeding profusely and it was crystal clear that plasters were not going to (pun intended) cut it as a solution.
I didn’t panic, or scream, or cry; instead I calmly climbed down the ladder, put the chainsaw on the ground and then, perhaps less calmly, rushed into the house and shouted for Mrs B. to “take me to hospital IMMEDIATELY” – that got everyone’s adrenaline going!
Whilst the family was flapping and getting ready for a swift exit, I rinsed my hand in the kitchen sink, watched the blood pouring out/away and surveyed the mangled mess I’d made of the base of my right ring finger. Even then I didn’t panic, just checked that my fingers were still functioning (and they appeared to be okay). I subsequently wrapped my hand in three of Mrs Baldwin’s tea towels and readied myself for the 35 minute journey to Northampton General.
At the hospital, the A&E assessor took a quick look at me and then directed me to “minor injuries”. There I took a seat with a group of other unfortunates and awaited my consultation. X rays followed and then the repair work could get underway. Following anaesthetic injections into my most damaged finger, and a tetanus jab in my arm; three stitches were placed into my right ring finger - the rest of them were taped. When the nurse said, “I am not sure how to best stitch this up”, I did think ‘shit’! She then made up her mind how to proceed and said I don’t think I can avoid you having a scar. Phew is that all I thought.
Once mended, I was signed off work for a week, which was handy (pun intended) bearing in mind that I couldn’t have done up my shirt buttons, or tied my tie if my life depended upon it – couldn’t drive safely on indeed type for that matter either.
Still I have to take some consolation from the fact that I was bloody lucky – the injuries could have been so much worse! I still have all my fingers, didn't break any bones or sever any tendons! That means, my writing hand still works properly (or at least it will when the dressings come off and the stitching is removed).
After my visit to the doctors yesterday to have my dressings changed, the prognosis on the fingers is good and healing is coming along nicely. God knows when I’ll be able to put my engagement ring on again!
Some observations:
Finally, I want to end by stating that the service from the hospital was excellent. The NHS gets moaned about all the time in the media – my experience on Sunday was that it’s great knowing it’s there for you in your hour of need!
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On Sunday 6th October I had an accident in my back garden. Unfortunately the accident involved a Black & Decker electric chainsaw and four of my fingers. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the four fingers affected were/are on my right (and in this case ‘write’) hand!
The ‘are’ you may already be appreciating is the most important word in the previous sentence. I still have all my fingers attached to my person and that’s not because they have been sewn back on either!
In my own defence, I recently took down a tree that was two-storeys high. I did it on my own and without any problems at all – so I wasn’t a chainsaw virgin.
On this occasion, I was up a eucalyptus tree for the purpose of cutting it back (and had already lopped a number of branches) when the ‘incident’ occurred. Having cut through a thick’ish’ branch, I was in the unfortunate position of having it springing back into me instead of dropping to the ground (initially it dropped but then as its downward momentum was halted by next door’s garage roof, the motion transferred into a forward direction – eucalyptus I have proved is fairly springy/bouncy (although that’s obviously not a technical term). That forward motion meant the branch came at me.
At the time, I was at the top of a ladder and some eight feet off the ground!
As I was knocked backwards, the chainsaw came up, this wasn't too worrying because by that point my hands were off the power switches and the blade’s rotation was slowing down. I still had the chainsaw in my left hand but unfortunately as I started wobbling on the ladder, I brought my right hand up to steady myself – and in doing so caught my fingers on the blade.
I’ll be honest, I uttered a short sentence that was peppered with expletives and then had to assess the situation. Already my fingers were bleeding profusely and it was crystal clear that plasters were not going to (pun intended) cut it as a solution.
I didn’t panic, or scream, or cry; instead I calmly climbed down the ladder, put the chainsaw on the ground and then, perhaps less calmly, rushed into the house and shouted for Mrs B. to “take me to hospital IMMEDIATELY” – that got everyone’s adrenaline going!
Whilst the family was flapping and getting ready for a swift exit, I rinsed my hand in the kitchen sink, watched the blood pouring out/away and surveyed the mangled mess I’d made of the base of my right ring finger. Even then I didn’t panic, just checked that my fingers were still functioning (and they appeared to be okay). I subsequently wrapped my hand in three of Mrs Baldwin’s tea towels and readied myself for the 35 minute journey to Northampton General.
At the hospital, the A&E assessor took a quick look at me and then directed me to “minor injuries”. There I took a seat with a group of other unfortunates and awaited my consultation. X rays followed and then the repair work could get underway. Following anaesthetic injections into my most damaged finger, and a tetanus jab in my arm; three stitches were placed into my right ring finger - the rest of them were taped. When the nurse said, “I am not sure how to best stitch this up”, I did think ‘shit’! She then made up her mind how to proceed and said I don’t think I can avoid you having a scar. Phew is that all I thought.
Once mended, I was signed off work for a week, which was handy (pun intended) bearing in mind that I couldn’t have done up my shirt buttons, or tied my tie if my life depended upon it – couldn’t drive safely on indeed type for that matter either.
Still I have to take some consolation from the fact that I was bloody lucky – the injuries could have been so much worse! I still have all my fingers, didn't break any bones or sever any tendons! That means, my writing hand still works properly (or at least it will when the dressings come off and the stitching is removed).
After my visit to the doctors yesterday to have my dressings changed, the prognosis on the fingers is good and healing is coming along nicely. God knows when I’ll be able to put my engagement ring on again!
Some observations:
- The CEO of the company I work for called me a 'buffoon' and on this occasion I think that the label is appropriate
- Since mauling myself, I have spoken to various people that have commented on my bandaged hand – it seems everyone has a story to tell about someone they know, often ones that are far worse than mine. Chainsaws are bloody dangerous - be very careful with them is the moral of the story.
- Also, before you go about a job involving a chainsaw, think about paying someone else to do it or at least checking if one of your friends or family is more capable – it turns out that my father-in-law used to do lumberjacking work for a living (and still has all his equipment – and fingers too for that matter). I didn’t even know; although I’ll now be asking him to finish off a job that I have lost some appetite for!
- I am right handed and doing stuff with my left hand only has proved to be frustrating and at times amusing. Things you take for granted like using a knife and fork to cut up your food, or doing up your shoe laces, are suddenly impossible. Wiping my arse with my left hand was challenging and odd; trying to use the computer mouse has been comical; typing left handed – slow and error strewn; writing by hand – completely beyond my capabilities. This experience has given me some insights into being disabled and they are not comforting. Reflecting in this way scares me to think what could have happened.
- I'll be missing karate for a few weeks
- I must clean my blood off the chainsaw before I give it back to my dad!
Finally, I want to end by stating that the service from the hospital was excellent. The NHS gets moaned about all the time in the media – my experience on Sunday was that it’s great knowing it’s there for you in your hour of need!
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