Wrapped Around Your Finger

The accident happened like lightening, but the time it took for Rich to wrap up my filleted index finger felt unendingly longer. We then began the long journey down the mountain with blood drenched palms and a sense of regret for having left Half Dome unfinished. But there was no time to dwell on what remained undone.

The jog down was filled with all degrees of emotion as my finger went through the frightening stages of frostbite-like behavior. Two miles from the top, we rejoined the rest of the cast of fellow hikers, but I could barely get myself to stop. In retrospect, I was a bit rude, pummeling through them, disregarding niceties and whatnot. I hope they understood; my mind was fixated on putting six more miles behind me.

By the time we reached Yosemite Falls, the pain crept up to a throbbing. This was a good sign, since then I could feel my finger. In any case, we called 911 to patch us through to the Yosemite medical services. They asked if they needed to send someone to get me, but since my finger was pink again, I figured I could make it all the way down.

After three and a half hours, we found our way to the Yosemite clinic, where x-rays showed that the Nalgene bottle had broken and displaced the middle phalanx of my right index finger. I had no idea a bone had been broken. I was only worried about getting the profusely bleeding gash stitched up. But that was just the beginning. The doc then performed a digital block (I won’t explain it, but just so you know, that was a dang big needle), so he could flush out the wound and check for ligament damage. And after a dozen or so stitches, and a painful dressing as my finger regained consciousness, we began our four and a half hour drive to the Stanford ER.

The intermittent talk about another digital block, antibiotic IV, and a 2-3 hour wait for a hand surgeon to see me didn’t make for a shorter day. But the docs at the ER ended up not doing much more than jab me with four more needles, unwrap and rewrap my mangled finger, and set me up to see a hand surgeon the next day. Thankfully, I was able to sleep in my own bed that night.