Mostly I am writing this to let you know what really happened and not what somw journalist will create. What is here is not embellished but let it be a warning.
January 1st morning Debbie went off to Radio Berkshire and I tidied up my big shed. I decided to make a 'sled' for my table saw to make it safer. Remember that! Safer!
I already had most of the pieces cut and started to cut a 'fiddly bit'. If you remember the sun was shining and streaming through the shed windows. VERY quickly and without any warning the piece of timber seemed to leap and pulled my left hand fingers into the teeth of the circular saw.
Without any conscious thought on my part my right hand hit the stop button and I rammed my left hand into the chest of my coat and somehow ran to the car, started it and set off for Henley. I must have looked a weird site doubled over with my face all screwed up from the pain and, I admit it, the pain.
In Henley I jumped out of the car and scared the hell out of the young woman driving the car in front asking her to move over at the lights. I can remember that I saw the lights go to green and I dived back into my car, mounted the pavement and went round her on the left to get on the road to Townlands Hospital where I dumped my car in the entrance and staggered into the front door.
They were brilliant 'cos I had no idea what had been damaged or lost or where I was or anything.
My head was full of the pain and the possible end of the magic.
After reducing the pain they got me into an ambulance and we went off at high speed for a hospital near Slough. Again a great staff and I was able to let Debbie know where I was. She came. I should work harder at not upsetting her. I could hear phrases and words around me... 'bone is shattered' 'ground up' 'nail gone' 'might be able to save the finger'. OMG... MIGHT...
A 'long-timer' went off on a phone around to try to get a hand specialist... difficult on New Year's Day. One was in Switzerland... could get back for Thursday... he found one that would come over from Bristol and open the Hand Clinic especially. Two nursing staff turned out as well.
According to other doctors I got lucky getting him. They say he is the best. I went for the operation and gave permission for him to do whatever was necessary.
Despite the warning I was not expecting the pain I got from mr raised arm being injected in the left armpit and apparently I questioned his parents' marital status. This numbed my fingers completely and they went to work. I concentrated on talking to the nurse to my right and tried to ignore my brain worrying about whether he was going to remove my finger, my hand, my arm. That's not as daft as it sounds 'cos I once had a poisoned knuckle on that hand and was told that if they had operated later I ran a risk of the poison spreading and losing the arm.
I kept up some banter and tried not listen to their techie talk about bones and stuff. It seemed to take forever until he asked if I would like to see what he had done. I'm a chicken when it comes to that sort of thing so I said no but couldn't stop myself glancing to the left. MY ARM WASN'T THERE!!! It was to my left, on the table, still attached but when they numb the nerve your brain remembers the last position... in my case up in the air. Not the best moment in my life.
All bandaged up I was soon on my way home and I have had one check up since. Bad moments recur, the worst being full shock state one night which turned me into a gibbering wreck as I relived the moment it happened. This has given me a fuller understanding of shock. It's not nice.
As I am a touch typist (I hate touch screens) getting any form of communication out there has not been easy and doing this blog has taken ages.
Tuesday will tell me more about what I will be able to do. I hope it will be the majority of what I did before, fingers crossed (oops... bad phrase)
BIg Lesson... don't take short cuts with power tools.... you will finish up with bigger cuts.