Saw One - Fingers Nine

Was it a vicious saw attack or an opportunity for self-improvement?

Photo by Isco on Unsplash

My dad is a woodworker. Yeah. Remember your high school shop teacher who was missing a few digits? Well, my dad is also easily distracted, which compounds the effects of his hobby. Thus, text exchanges such as the following are not a rare occurrence:

photo by author (Mom is not frozen or a rapper, she is just my “in case of emergency person”)

I wasn’t even worried about this message. I mean if mom didn’t go with him to the hospital it couldn’t have been that bad. Once I established that after a few stitches all of his appendages are still present I move on with my day. Sure, I checked in for an update or two, but honestly, this incident was small potatoes.

But recently I got a phone call. Shit. You know it’s bad when the phone rings instead of just getting a text. Dad sawed his pinky finger in half…lengthwise just left of the midline.

Fuck.

I can handle a few stitches, but at this point, mom wasn’t sure they would be leaving the hospital with the nine fingers he came in with.

So I hauled my butt down there to meet my parents and provide moral support. I found them in the pre-op room with Dad pretty listless from the drugs.