The Three-Fingered Mommy

This is how my day started. I woke up at 5 AM and couldn't go back to sleep. And that really pissed me off since I hardly ever get to sleep in anymore. Because I had to go to work this morning anyway, I went ahead and took a shower and got around while I waited for Bryan to get home from his night shift. And I waited. And waited. And started wondering if I was going to make it to work on time for the morning meeting--which is the only reason I had to go to work today at all. Then I remembered that I haven't complained about my job in a while and decided to start a blog post about that...then he got home. So that blog entry will have to wait. But why so late? The not-so-unusual reason...his relief didn't get to work on time. But that's not really what this is about.

I rushed out the door, feeling very guilty that he had to deal with the kids this morning on zero sleep--but there was nothing I could do other than rush to get to work, so I could rush to get home for him. In my mad rush to work, a few things went right. I managed NOT to get a speeding ticket (knock on wood). And I managed to get a ride from a friendly shipyard worker to the ship from the parking lot (saving me a few minutes of bicycling in the freezing cold). He got me to my office trailer just in time for that important morning meeting. And that is where it happened. I slammed my finger in this guy's truck door.

Oh but I wish that's where it ended. He didn't see me. And started driving away.

At first I thought it was just my glove. Nope--as I pulled and twisted I immediately realized it wasn't just my glove. And it wasn't coming loose. Ohmygodthedriverdoesn'tknow!!!! I was turned backwards--couldn't reach the door handle with my other hand. As the truck started forward and started dragging me with it, I got ready to leap into the truck bed--THANK GOD he glanced back just in time before he really hit the accelerator! I may have lost more than a finger--might have been my whole arm!

This poor guy was beside himself. I was shaking and in shock, and he was trying to get my glove off for me. Somehow I still had my Starbucks coffee clutched in my other hand, and he saved it as I fell back into the passenger's seat. (Yes, much like a man who will protect his beer in any situation--I prioritized my coffee over having my hand ripped off.) My finger was still on my hand, and it didn't appear to be broken. It was immediately bleeding and black and some skin is torn off where I twisted and pulled to frantically get free of the door. He gently dabbed all the blood off with a tissue and put a band-aid on it--all the while I was putting every ounce of energy and concentration into not crying. I am a woman in a male-dominated blue-collar environment. I have to act somewhat tough or these guys will eat me alive on the ship's deckplates.

The surprising thing is the pain! I feel like a whiny little girl, but my entire hand hurts all the way up past my elbow! I slammed my thumb in my Mom's Suburban when I was little, but I don't remember it feeling anything like this. And I think about my kids--I have always been very careful not to catch my kids' fingers in any doors. I can't imagine how I'd freak out if it happened now, knowing what this feels like. I showed them my finger when I got home today just so they'd see how bad it was. (ok, and to get some sympathy from my little monkeys...) Hopefully it scared them enough that they will be more careful, too.

And, no--I haven't taken a picture of it. It's gross. And I'm too big of a baby to unbandage it right now.