This is a heartwarming story. It’s purpose is to offer hope and optimism about humanity. At the end of these words is the rousing conclusion told (and shown) via video.
Chapter One – The Injury
The sharp pain triggered a reflex, and I immediately dropped the knife.
What just happened? And then I saw it. On my ring finger, just above my wedding band, was an inch long shard of glass, protruding out of me, like an ancient stone standing in a sacred circle.
I removed the glass, opening up the wound inviting blood to ooze all over the kitchen counter. My first instinct was to take my ring off but the skin and underlying tissue had splayed apart and the ring wasn’t going anywhere.
The jar of pesto I was holding was still intact except the one piece that ended up in my finger. I had been using a butter knife to scrape my favourite sauce out of its glass home.
The bleeding stopped quickly. I closed the gap with a steri-strip, gauzed it up and went off to work. No harm done, right?
Chapter Two – The Plan
After listening to my receptionist share the barrage of questions from patients about schedules and supplements, and answering each, in turn, I calmly told her that I might need to take myself to the hospital.
Now, I’m sure this wound would’ve healed on it’s own. That is if it wasn’t for the metal tourniquet putting an increasing amount of pressure on the injury.
I wept at the thought of having to cut my ring off. After texting with my husband about it, he convinced me that saving my finger was probably more important than saving the ring. That meant a trip to emergency. Hooray!
It turned out there was a window of time between 1:30 and 4:00 pm where no patients were booked. We notified the two patients booked between 4:00 and 5:00 pm that their appointments were on standby since I had no way of knowing how long I’d be gone. We’ve all had horror stories of long waits in emerge. We promised to let them know by 3:30 if I’d be able to make their appointments.
Besides the time crunch, and being an emotional wreck at the thought of losing my ring, I admittedly also felt anxious about the doctors I’d encounter. We’ve all had horror stories about them too.
Chapter 3 – The Waiting Room
At 1:30 pm I drove myself to the hospital. After circling the parking lot 1.5 times, I pulled into the LAST spot just as someone was leaving. My thoughts ran off, “Oh man. This is going to be a gong show. I’m going to be here for hours. This place is a zoo today.” It took 20 minutes just to see an admitting nurse – there were 4 people in line ahead of me.
She undid the bandage I applied that morning and had a look. I couldn’t stop crying. I really didn’t want to lose my ring. She held my good hand and looked straight into my eyes. “I bet that ring will come off with no problem.” Her words brought more tears. These ones not of fear and sadness, but hope.
After taking my blood pressure and assigning me two classic and classy hospital bracelets, she told me to follow the orange squares, instead of the blue diamonds.
My heart lifted. I know the triage system at the hospital. She didn’t direct me to shuffle into the big waiting room where most of the people who were taking up most of the parking spaces were waiting. I knew that following the orange squares meant my little finger (growing bigger by the moment) was prioritized that day. Hope.
Two, maaaaaaaybe three minutes later another nurse came to take my pulse and listen to my heart. I was still crying. “Any other health issues?” I shook my head. “You’re feeling emotional about your ring?” I nodded. They were listening. I was being heard.
She brought me around the corner away from the 4 other patients who also got to follow the orange squares and had me sit in a chair at the end of a hallway. I watched the buzz of doctors and nurses flitting between the computer terminals and treatment rooms. From a machine about 10 feet away a woman softly yelled in my direction, “Don’t worry! I’ve been at this for 15 years and have only had to cut off 4 rings.” Hope.
Chapter 4 – The Loss
She introduced herself as she walked over, putting her gloves on. “Hi! I’m Dr. Cooper.”
Tears.
“We’ve got this. I’m going to freeze your finger and be back.” She injected 3 mL of anesthetic into the palm of my hand. I watched the entire thing (because even though I was in pain and feeling really tender, this stuff still fascinates me – especially on my own body).
A few more minutes roll by, and from my hallway chair, I tracked Dr. Cooper as she navigated 2-3 other patients, all in separate rooms behind closed doors. My finger was getting heavier and more absent. She popped her head out from one of the rooms, “How’s the finger?”
I replied with a laugh, “Finger? What finger?” It had lost all feeling.
She returned with a tube of lube and before I knew it she had my finger covered and was twisting the ring towards my first knuckle. The wound reopened, and for the second time that day, blood was everywhere. “Don’t worry, the blood is just helping the lubrication.” We both laughed. I loved her character. Hope. Humans.
I started cheering her on. “You got this. You got this!”
And I knew she had it. I knew as soon as the first millimetre of the ring made it over that joint. From there it slid off with no problem.
Tears. Relief. Dr. Cooper wiped the ring off and placed it on the ring finger on my right hand. I giggled and said, “I do.” It didn’t fit all the way on so it rested there delicately.
She wrapped the underpad loosely around my left hand to enclose the bleeding as much as possible. She showed me into a room (with a door!) while carrying my bags for me. Humans. Helping humans.
Chapter 5 – The Stitches
She introduced me to Dr. Shepherd explaining he would stitch up my injury. My left hand, wrapped in the blue plastic liner rested on the work station beside the treatment table. Dr. Shepherd saw my wedding ring resting precariously on the ring finger of my right hand, and said, “I’m so glad she was able to save your ring.” (Tears). “You want to make sure you put that in a safe place. Why don’t we put it on your necklace?”
I agreed. I lifted my left bundled-up hand showing him I wasn’t at full capacity. Without another word, he gently moved my hair out of the way, unclasped my necklace, slid the ring on to it, and reclasped the chain.
Tears. Humans. Helping other humans. I felt so cared for by his concern and tenderness. I was so moved by the attention and kindness he showed me. Tears.
As he stitched up my finger which needed three sutures (!) he said, “You know what we need to watch out for besides pesky pesto jars? It’s the zombie apocalypse.” We both laughed. He went on to share his silly theory about how some superbug will start it all.
“So you’re suggesting that the key to saving the world from the zombie apocalypse is probiotics?” We both laughed, again.
“Probiotics?”
“Yes! I’m a naturopathic doctor and I believe in probiotics.”
“Oh!” He might have had other opinions at that moment but he didn’t say them. And he might also be one of the cool MDs who value both avenues of medicine. I’m certainly an ND who values both. Especially, particularly in emergencies.
I know a lot of people have a hard time with their GPs and specialists. They feel rushed, unheard, and left alone with no hope of getting the answers they’re looking for. I hear about it all in my practice. In general, there is an overwhelming sense of underwhelm.
But that wasn’t me that day.
Chapter 6 – The Final Tears
After giving me my post-stitch instructions (which included not putting my ring back on for 6 weeks), I thanked him for his kindness, attention, and care. I don’t think he saw but as I left but I cried again. This time for the honest, real, human connections that met me from everyone I encountered at the hospital that day.
I returned to the clinic at 3:00 pm (I was gone for a total of 1.5 hours!) which felt like the miraculous cherry on top of the (dairy-free, sugar-free) sundae of magic that I witnessed and experienced.
Chapter 7 – The Update
If you’ve ever had stitches (this was my first time), you’ll know that they don’t necessarily dissolve completely. Several weeks later I felt like something was still in there so I poked and prodded until I got the remaining tiny bit of suture out. I gauzed up my finger ready to see patients. Interestingly, that day a woman came in for the second time. Coincidentally we met for the first time on the day it happened. “Is your finger still injured?” She remembered the day it happened, and how I was holding back my tears during our time together. I happily reported it was fine, especially now that all the foreign parts were out of me!
Chapter 8 – The Rousing Conclusion
And… now… via video… the rousing conclusion (as promised) to this heart-warming tale of humans helping other humans.
The End.
Thanks for reading, and watching.
Fall cleanse
If you’re interested in the cleanse I mention in the video click here to read all about it and see if it’s a fit for you. The clinic number is 250-585-0379 if you have any questions. I’d love to have you join us!
Sharing Good News
I’d love to hear about your GOOD (surprising) stories of humans caring for others. Sharing positive news is good for the hearts of our fellow brothers and sisters.
To Humans Helping Humans!
