Jonah's Injury - a Dad's perspective

I had just finished teaching Sunday School (Gospel Doctrine) class and as I left the chapel (where we hold the class) I thought I'd drop by the bathroom. I don't know - I didn't really need to go since I had just gone before class, but might as well, right? (the thought process of a man over the age of 40, I guess). As I was washing my hands I hear the door open and a very familiar weeping/crying/wailing sound and I see Jonah coming toward me, dripping blood and holding his hand funny. I sort of got out of him that he had hurt his hand in a folding chair and thought he had ripped off his fingernail. I took a look and saw that the tip of his finger was ripped most of the way off. I told him that it was way worse than just a nail and that we needed to get to the ER. Brother Jarman was there helping us with paper towels so we borrowed some oil, gave him a quick blessing and headed to the hospital. (Interesting note - Jonah chose the hospital because he had heard bad things about the closest hospital and we knew that there was a better hospital only slightly farther away - the one where Gigi went went she visited here and got sick).

On the way to the hospital I was trying to get a coherent explanation from him, but it wasn't going well. Best I could understand was that he was trying to "re-fold" his chair and his finger got caught, he couldn't get the chair back open, so he yanked his finger out.

He wasn't crying/wailing any more when we got to the hospital, but was looking pretty pale and green and weak and asking for some water. We hurried him to the window and they got a nurse right out there and took us back to see a doctor. Within about 2 minutes of walking in we had a Doctor looking at the wound and telling us step-by-step what they were going to do next (give him a shot, clean it out, x-ray, stitch it up...) Jonah had been asking over and over for a drink of water and the nurses wouldn't let him have one. The Doctor let him have a few sips, though, because she knew what was coming next.

They had to numb it all up so they could clean and sew, but that meant giving him a shot of lidocaine (and some other -caine I don't remember). If you've ever had a shot of lidocaine then you know that it stings like crazy going in and I saw the syringe they were going to use and it was huge! The Doc had me lay across Jonah's chest and hold his wrist down while he made the injection. The Doc was really great and he told Jonah that "it's okay to scream and yell and cry, but just don't move your hand!" So, Jonah did indeed scream and yell and cry as it went in, but he didn't move his hand. Within about 2 minutes the pain wore off and the numbness kicked in. As Jonah described it, "it feels like my finger just isn't even there anymore!"

After killing the pain (oh yeah, and also getting a bit of Kiddie Vicodin) Jonah was very chatty with the doctors and nurses and asking them questions and describing how each movement they made felt to him.

They pulled out his fingernail, then they sewed him up good - 4 stitches internally to close the wound; then they stuffed the fingernail back on and used 4 stitches to hold his fingernail in place. They explained that the fingernail is dead and gone, but they put it back to hold the cuticle in place so that the cells in that area may re-grow a new nail. They said that it might not ever grow a new nail back, or it could grow back and be wavy and lumpy, or it could grow back and be fine. We'll just have to wait and see.

They x-rayed his finger and he has a "tufts" fracture - basically the bone at the tip of his finger broke. So, he's on a strong antibiotic to guard against infection and they have his finger splinted and wrapped up in gauze (that we have to change every day).

In the end we were only in the hospital for a total of 3 hours. Not bad for an ER given the horror stories you hear. Jonah seems to be doing well with it and hasn't needed his Vicodin (just getting by on Advil) so the pain isn't too bad. He figured out how to use a pencil (it's the middle finger of his right hand) so he could go to school and still do his work. He also named his injured finger (with splint and wrapping) - get this - Mid L. Finger. Very creative.

I didn't think to take a picture until they were sewing it up. Had I been thinking more clearly I would have certainly taken more detailed pictures of the wound. So, here's what I have:

Also, Jen has a psot about the experience from her perspective on her blog at jenslifeisasitcom.blogspot.com.

Oh yeah, and about that explanation - he didn't want to admit he had been fooling around, leaning back in his chair - that's why his explanation wasn't making sense. But, now you can got to Jen's blog and read all about that part of it!

Ren