Saturday, June 7, 2008
There are certain calls you never want to get. The collection agency calls, the loss of a loved one calls, your child has been injured calls.
All very bad.
This past Friday, the ringing phone woke me out of a dead sleep. Answering it, I expected to hear my husband telling me that there was a tornado in tow and to take cover.
I was all ready to gripe at him for waking me up for a measly tornado.
Instead, it was his work.
"There's been an accident."
And all I could ask was the horrible question, so afraid of the answer, "Is he all right."
"He just cut off the tip of one finger."
One semi panicked call to my mom to watch the kids and I was on my way to the hospital, telling myself that it couldn't have been that bad. But if it wasn't bad, why the ambulance ride?
Turns out it was not just the tip of one finger, it was two fingers all the way to the first knuckle.
One surgery and a hospital stay later and we're discovering everything you need two hands to do. (He still has two hands. One is just heavily swaddled.)
How do you tie your shoes with one hand?
Wash your back?
Button your pants?
Pick up a dropped bit of candy while your good hand is holding the bar?
Think about it.