Note: There’s graphic blood and stuff further down the post. If you aren’t ok with that don’t scroll down.
So a few weeks ago you may have seen some kerfuffle on Twitter and on the comics. It started a little like this.
I just stove a kitchen knife with some force into my finger. My first my thought was "wow, that knife is blunt"
— Becky Hunt (@BeckyButtermint) October 15, 2015
And then I got my boyfriend to cut the pumpkin with the sharper knife…now we are at A&E
— Becky Hunt (@BeckyButtermint) October 15, 2015
Note that time delay between these two tweets. She wasn’t expecting to make that second one.
Becky was trying to cut some pumpkin and I had just come back from work. The pumpkin was in small curvy chunks. The slimy kind that you can buy precut from the store. I’ve chopped pumpkin up before from scratch so this should be no trouble right?
So Becky hands me the large cleaver and goes “can you skin this for me please? Be careful ok?” “Yeah Ok!” I said with my deep condecending voice. “I’ll be careful! Far out!”
She leaves the room and I immediately chop the tip of my left hand middle finger off. I can’t immediately tell that the whole tip is off due to all the blood, it looked like it had just been peeled back from the middle of your finger print to the top of the finger nail. I real around, squirting blood up the cupboards. “BABE! BABE!” I scream. Becky takes a sec to come in, since she thinks I’m taking the piss. She had only just left me with a big knife she told me to be careful with after all, and it would be a classic Izak thing to do to pretend I had just stabbed myself.
“I flayed myself!” I cry as she comes in, extending my bloodied hand at her. She takes in the situation for a second (For me it was a huge massive second which gave me enough time to scream “DO SOMETHING.”) and then quickly grabs a roll of tissue paper and sticks it on the end of my hand, while laughing.
She then nipped off to get the first aid kit and I stayed in the kitchen, angry and swearing. I was more upset that I was dumb enough to cut myself up than I was anything else. It didn’t hurt overly. When she brought it back we opened it and surveyed a wide selection of things we didn’t know what to do with. I was sitting on the floor in the kitchen at this point because I decided I didn’t want to drip blood all over the carpet.
I can’t recall the exact conversation now but involved her nipping back to the chopping board to retrieve my fingertip, which was still sticking to the blade. I had to ask whether I was missing the tip or not and she bravely stopped for a bit and wondered whether she should tell me or not. In the end she asked what I wanted to do with it, and whether I wanted it back on. Of course I wanted it back.
“Ok don’t look while I do this.” she said while removing the tissue and putting the tip back on.
“I’M LOOKING AT IT.” I said, while staring at my finger and slowly blacking out. I started to loose hearing and everything and vaguely considered whether I should let myself pass out, but decided against it, as I had to walk down the stairs to the car. Becky was upset because I wasn’t using the hand rail and was instead texting the whole way down telling everyone the good news.
By the time we got to A&E I was cracking jokes to the staff and generally in an OK mood, apart from being annoyed that the evening was getting wasted away. I was the third hand case that night (which was Thursday the 15th of this month).
We waited about an hour before seeing the nurse which was a younger dude around my age I guess. He took my tissue off and went “oh yep, that’s cut off for sure. No bone involved which is good.”
After that He made me hold my fingertip on with a bit of tissue and said he hoped the bleeding would stop. Every now and again he’d come have a look and move the tip around and it would start bleeding again (no shit).
He gave me some concoction of pills which were supposed to make me sleepy and stuff but it didn’t do a whole lot. I felt somewhat ripped off.
Eventually the proper doctor came along and whipped the tip off and stuck it in a bath of whatever. On my bare finger he chucked a bit of bandage on it to soak in the bleeding. While I sat there flipping the bird he cut the fatty tissue off the underside of my finger tip and prepared it to be reunited with my body.
He stopped the bleeding pretty quick by just having the tissue on there. The nurse came in and got a bit of on the job training. He said he was expecting some far fancier way of stopping it.
Well anyway he numbed up my finger and I watched him stick a huge fish hook with string through my fingernail, and through 3 other points around the top of my finger to hold the skin on. Four Stitches in total. While he was doing that the nurse shot me up with a tetanus injection in the other arm. In the following days the injection would hurt more than my finger did.
I was pretty impressed with the job to be honest. It was strange how dead the skin looked. It didn’t take long for it to go pale. I had it in a sling for a couple days and couldn’t do a whole lot with it. It bled pretty bad on the following days but calmed down eventually.
I’ve got some progress shots of how it’s coming along as well. This first shot is 4 days later. That’s a huge pile of clotted blood your seeing there, and it was very blushed. At this point my GP wasn’t sure whether it would hold or not. If it wasn’t going to take I’d have to do plastic surgery (which I said I’d rather skip. Can’t be bothered. I can do without it really.)
This last shot is 6 days after the incident and they cleaned that big pile off. It looks a whole lot less messy and is starting to turn the same colour as me.
I haven’t got a shot of it from today, but it’s definitely the same colour as me now, and looks like it’ll hold just fine. The stitches are out, and the nurse was pretty stoked I wasn’t being a pussy about her yanking them off “other people are a lot more dramatic. I know I shouldn’t say that.” she said.
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