Warning: Graphic (not really but oh well) pictures below and not suited for the faint-hearted.
I finally managed to change my blog template after struggling with it for the longest time. Don’t be fooled by its simplicity, cos I just can’t seem to sort out the not-so-nice comment form, and it took me hours, and it still was going nowhere. And the font looks a tad too small on my notebook,
Did some changes here and there, and all in all, a refreshing change.
A weekend that ended too soon, without much fanfare, and these days I find Sundays evil-er than Mondays. I am already looking forward to the weekend with a busy week panning out for me. I thought I was freed last week after the dreadful presentation, but no difference leh!
Anyway.
The episode of the unfortunate finger!
3 weeks after the fateful dive, the pain was getting worse though a long course of antibiotics made the swelling went away.
My finger couldn’t move without hurting, and even just lifting my arm up would trigger a shooting pain.
As usual, most discounted it as a simple, girlie whine.
Hmphf.
So, after getting a “2nd opinion”, it was suggested that I get an x-ray done. Initially I rejected the idea totally thinking it was too over the top (okay, fine, I was also terribly resentment of the idea that my finger would be cut open), and it was suggested that it was highly unlikely there would be anything showing up.
So…. what had supposed to be a quick drop-in during lunch time, showed exactly what was wrong.
Enlarge the X-ray film and you could see a foreign object on the left side next to the bone.
After a fast and furious referral letter, I was at SGH A & E waiting to see a hand surgeon.
First, they tested my fingers’ response with a needle and the masked lady asked, “Can you feel it?” I felt the prick and said yes, but I think because I didn’t yelp girlie-ly, she poked again, harder this time until it bled and I looked at her bewildered-ly and answered a louder yes.
I think I should have screamed like a girl when she pricked as hard for the rest of the fingers.
Then, they gave me a jab when I was on the phone with a business call. Because I didn’t yelp, the needle went in all the way and I could feel the sour pain in my bone.
Lesson learnt. Yelp and scream next time when someone prick you. They just wanna see you hurt.
In the room, there was a patch of blood on the floor with a piece of discarded tissue. Tsk tsk. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was visiting some quack.
The hand surgeon saw me next (seen below talking on the phone to my 2nd opinion) and she was coincidentally common friends to those whom I went diving with. In the beginning I was jittery, and I started joking with the nurses when I went into the OT.
And I was morbidly so curious that I asked the doctor for permission to take pictures while she worked on my hand.
I thought I might faint, but I was getting more curious and started to half sit up to see her inject local into my finger (yes, I got pricked again), she then tied a rubber band round the base of my finger (hahaha, it reminded me of how a cock ring works! Uhm, not that I use one before…) before she cut it open with a sharp scapel.
My finger looks look, red, flushed with blood, hard, and swollen as it stood rigidly under the lights.
She turned back to refer to the X-ray behind her to try to locate the splinter. Her grim words were, “If I can’t find it, you have to be admitted and we need the X-ray machine to locate it.”
Well, knowing how before that I had ticked off the boxes of all the “worst case scenerios” suggested to me with regards to my finger, I was thinking if I had to leave my cut gapping for the convenience of it.
She then commented coolly that some of the flesh around the wound is infected and the bad tissues needed to be scrapped off, briefly mentioning if it wasn’t done cleanly, I might have to go back to scrap it again. Yes, with the finger split open again.
And then she pulled out this white rubberband lookalike thingy out of the cut, showing me. She even gamely stretched my cut to show the white band as I took a picture.
Apparently the 1mm thick rubberband is my nerve. What nerves! And it was pierced. right through in the centre.
I don’t know to laugh or cry. It pierced the 1mm nerve (thankfully, the minor nerve), when it is 1mm.. of all places, you can pierce a nerve!!! Got more accurate or not?
And secondly. It is 1mm. And it didn’t snap?!?! It was like those worn rubberband, stretched thinly at the site it was pierced.
A nerve injury takes half a year to heal, and that also explains the shooting pain.
Fortunately the evil thing that lodged itself in my finger was located and plucked out like a thorn (Bottom row, 2nd from right).
No one could figure out what it was. Nemo’s toothpick? A coral’s thorn? Some fish bit me and I brought its tooth home? Idon’t know!!
It isn’t smooth and looks like a tip of the toothpick, but how is it possible to have a toothpick at that depth?!
Roarrrr!
But after having my finger wrapped up like a popsicle, it was a week plus before it was healed and I had help to get the stitches out (tried doing it myself but I guess I could have chop my finger off unwittingly with an “Ooooooops”).
My index finger is still weaker than other fingers and with all the bad flesh dug out, I thought it would do what liposuction meant to do, but it doesn’t seem to look any slimmer.
The long course of antibiotics also brought forth other ailments, and since then I seemed to develop an allergy to alcohol. Tsk tsk, maybe the kick-off will make me “test water” again to see if the allergy is here to stay for good.
