My name is Becky. I am a nurse. I was working at detox when a patient threw a chair at a staff member. We put violent patients into a "quiet room" (for their protection and the safety of others). I walked the patient into the quiet room and he shoved the door as hard as he could. Unfortunately my hand was in the doorframe and it amputated my middle finger and crushed the index finger. I had to pick my fingertip off the floor, and it was still warm! Now that the sob story part is done.... A few months after the injury, I demanded to have revision surgery because part of the nail bed was left and was growing. The nail bed grew right in the middle of the tip of my finger. Unfortunately it looked like...... male genitalia. I swore that if the insurance company did not pay for the surgery I was going to tattoo "I was in the pool!" on the finger. They paid for the surgery and now it looks better!
My husband Tom was playing left field in men's adult league softball (so he should have known better) - there was 1 out and the winning run was on 3rd and a fly ball was hit to him. He charged the ball with anticipation to throw home, but the ball missed the palm of his glove, hitting his throwing hand instead and shattering his pinkie. Just so we are straight, they lost the game. Three surgeries later to try and repair his pinkie, it was still stuck like a fish hook. It killed his bowling game and softball throw (not to mention made shaking hands extremely awkward). So the fourth surgery, he decided to have his pinkie cut off and he is still playing softball 15 years years later, but his bowling game still sucks. Btw, my husband not only lost his pinkie playing men's league softball, but he has also broke his hand twice and tore his ACL, but for some reason, he continues to play. C'mon he is 44 and I tell him every year, it's time to call it quits, but he never does. Wonder what injury or broken bone this year will bring?!?!?!
When my husband and I were building our house, I was painting the trim and he was plumbing the PVC drain pipes in the crawl space. He didn't want to have to keep coming out of the crawl space so he would give me measurements and I would make the cuts. With a CHOP SAW!!! One piece he needed was short so I started with a smaller piece of pipe. The saw pulled my hand into the spinning blade. I grabbed a towel that was sitting next to the saw and covered my hand, proceeded to jump up and down and repeatedly scream "I CUT MY F***** THUMB OFF!!!!!"At first my husband thought I was joking. And then realized I wasn't and had to crawl the length of our ranch house to get out of the crawl space. We jumped in the car and flew to the ER. I did not know how bad it was or if the thumb was still there because I was afraid to look. My husband called our friends that live next door and asked them to look in the garage for my thumb. At the ER they found that the thumb was there hanging by a piece of skin. They tacked it back on and told me to see the hand surgeon the next morning. Surgery was scheduled THREE DAYS later! On the way to the hospital my husband told me he wasn't feeling well and was going home and dropped me at the door. I was pretty ticked at the time, but later found out he was sick from ecoli. (That's another story in itself). The surgeon was able to reattach my thumb. I was never able to bring myself to look at it before surgery so six weeks later when the bandages were removed, I was quite surprised to see the trim paint still all over my thumb!!