I was furiously typing away, working on an email filled with substitute plans for my Bright Futures kids to do tomorrow in Writer's Workshop in my absence because I feel sick and have no voice with which to teach. Suddenly, I heard the most blood-curdling scream I've ever heard. It came from the driveway where my boys were playing on their bikes. I rushed out to find Michael with his index finger crunched between the bike chain and the evil-looking toothy thing that holds the chain on. By the time I got to his side, he had yanked out his finger and was continuing this blood-chilling scream, encouraged, I'm sure, by my hysterical pleas with the other children to "go get your daddy NOW!"
It looked like the top of his finger from about halfway down his nail up was barely attached. I rushed him inside and quickly wrapped it in a paper towel to stop the bleeding, all the while still yelling for someone to get Daddy from his office. Daddy is the great Calmer and Handler of Emergencies. He came downstairs, all calm. Almost so calm that I wanted to yell at him, "Your firstborn son is in great pain, and his finger just got ripped off!!" but instead I mouthed over Michael's head, "The top of his finger is almost gone."
He looked at it and then calmly said to Michael, "You'll be OK. Don't worry. Let's just get in the car and go see the doctor." They left, leaving me with my hysterics. With as much as Mark travels, there is sure to be a day when something like this happens and he's not around. I dread that day.
Mark took him to the immediate medical care center, the place that sewed Michael back together when he tore his brow apart. They cleaned the wound but then told my husband that it would be better for Michael to be under the care of a hand specialist. They gave him the address and called ahead so the doc would be expecting him. I hated it that Michael had to take the long drive to this specialist, all the while still bleeding, but the hand doctor was very good with him, and Michael was very brave.
The top of the finger was indeed hanging on by just a thread. Local anesthetic was administered, and apparently at some point, the doc pushed back the "top" and you could see bone--something both daddy and son thought was way cool and something I'm glad I missed.
The doc removed the bottom part of the fingernail that was still intact so he could sew everything back together. Then he sewed the nail bed back on so that hopefully his nail will grow back normally. I won't be able to see it all until Thursday when he is allowed to remove his bandage. In the meantime, the challenge is to get him to settle down and not act so much like a boy for a few days so he doesn't tear the stitches.
Needless to say, we did not get to our advent activity today; however, the rest of us did meet the boy and his daddy at Dairy Queen for dessert before dinner, so that's almost as exciting as going out to find the best Christmas lights.