Ten Years Ago: Art's Finger Calamity!

We had not yet moved to Hawaii in 2006, but stayed for several months to start the renovation for our eventual move in 2008.  The following is a construction report that I was sending out to our friends and family in Illinois since we would be gone for several months. I sent it out as a group email. I wasn't a true blogger yet. You'll see why I'm posting this now when you see my next post.

Construction Journal #12

July 30, 2006

Construction Calamity!

I must apologize because this is rather long but I wanted to share this experience with you since we found it all so fascinating.  Granted Art says it’s a lot easier for it to be fascinating when you’re not the one who has to suffer through it.

I suppose this had to happen sometime.  Art has managed to get hurt with each of our house projects in the past but this had to have been one of the most alarming.

The concrete (in the kitchen) which had been poured into the trench that had been dug for the new water line had uneven high spots that we knew would make it difficult to lay tile over.  Therefore Art was using Mike’s (contractor) grinder to grind down the troublesome areas.   Art says he had the grinder at the wrong angle for a particularly difficult spot and he lost control of it.

The next thing I knew, he appeared and told me we had a problem.  I held my breath thinking there was something else wrong with the flooring when he showed me his hand.  His finger was gushing blood.  He ran it under water and said he thought it would be fine. One peek at his finger and I insisted on going to Tripler Army Hospital.

When we got to the Tripler Emergency Area I saw a sign I thought was rather interesting.   

Acute Minor Illness Clinic    

Art signed in and was triaged pretty quickly.  It was about 3:30 PM and he was sent to Radiology.  We were surprised.  Art was hoping they’d look at his finger and say, “No problem.  Here’s some ointment and a band aid,” and send us home.  They said it was a good thing we came right away.  We wondered why…

We went back to the waiting room and a half hour later was told NOT to leave because there was a fracture.  Yikes!

More waiting.  After about an hour I noticed a lighted sign that said, “Thank you for your patience.  Average wait from Triage to being seen can be 4-6 hours.”  Nah…. We thought.

A doctor came by two more times to check his vital signs and to tell Art NOT TO LEAVE because he needed to see an orthopedic surgeon. 

Hmmm… it was about 7:00 PM now and we were getting a bit hungry.  Even hospital jello would have been appreciated.  I’ll bet a beer might have helped Art, too.

Finally, at around 9:00 PM we were shown to the treatment area where three gurneys surrounded by a cloth curtain partition were lined up with patients waiting for the doctor.  One held a 5 year old girl who had a strong set of lungs and well developed vocal chords.  A pool accident victim, she had a one inch deep gash on her arm that she did not want anyone touching.  We heard her screaming, “I need to go poddy.  NOW!  That’s enough!  I’m hungry.  I want to eat. NOW!  Give him the shot, not me.  I want to leave!  Go away.  NOW!”  Her dad and grandfather kept reassuring her that they wouldn’t let the doctors hurt her and that nothing was going to hurt her.  The scream we heard next let us know that she knew they had not exactly told her the truth.

While waiting we heard other voices on the other side of the curtain.

"Who do we have waiting?" a male voice asked.
"A woman with a broken foot, a young girl with a laceration, and an old guy with a finger injury," came the reply.

Art and I looked at each other and nearly burst out laughing. "What old guy?" he chuckled.

After a while Dr. Cho (1^st year intern from West Point) appeared and introduced himself.  He mentioned how the worst thing Art would suffer would be the shot of anesthetic into the hand where they would have to stick the needle almost right through on either side of his middle finger.  (Whoa, too much information…) Then they would probably remove his fingernail and clean out the wound.  Art and our son, Keola had seen Syriana and George Clooney’s screams came to mind.

I reassured Art that it would just be a discomfort.  That’s our joke from when they told us I would only have a little discomfort during Tiffany’s birth. The contractions were a surprise that made me realize somebody (probably a man) was going by a different pain standard.

Dr. Gumboc (another West Pointer and a 2^nd year resident orthopedic surgeon) came next.  He explained that the grinder had hit Art’s middle left finger on both sides and cut through his fingernail to the bone and fractured it.  He said he would administer the numbing shot twice and thought it would be enough.  “It will be a little UNcomfortable,” he said reassuringly as Art’s eyebrows rose under his hairline even though his face retained its calm, beatific smile.

Dr. D’Alleyrand (a 4^th year resident) came next to discuss procedure.  Then they all left to deal with our neighboring patient whose screams were becoming even more stressful to listen to.  The little girl's grandpa was now promising Wendy’s cheeseburgers. 

More waiting.  It was so cold I climbed onto the gurney with Art and almost fell asleep if only we weren’t so hungry and thirsty.  Those cheeseburgers were sounding really good.

At around 11:00 PM, it was Art’s turn!  As we watched Dr. Gumboc and Dr. D’Alleyrand talking outside, Art wondered if they really knew what to do.  When Dr. Gumboc returned I asked him if he’d done this operation before.  (It IS part of the Patient’s Bill of Rights that was posted on the wall.) 

“Yup.  I just saw the video last night,” he said with a bright smile.

“He did,” added Dr. D’Alleyrand.  “It was at the Holiday Inn.”

While we pondered this, Dr. Cho and Dr. Gumboc assembled all their equipment.  Lots of long suture scissors, needles, big needles, lots of dressings, several bowls, rather large bottles of what looked like too much medicine to be injected for one little finger, etc.

My first thought was, “I can’t believe I don’t have my camera!”

My second thought was, “Poor Art.  I can’t believe he’s going through this again.”  He cut his thumb and needed stitches a few years ago while renovating our Illinois kitchen.

Art’s hand was scrubbed carefully because of staph germs in Hawaii.  Just like termites, we have more of that also.  When Dr. Gumboc stuck the needle into Art’s hand, I had to turn away. I had my hand on Art’s foot and could feel his toe curl when the needle was inserted again and again. 

A moment later, Dr. Gumboc asked if his finger was numb.  I could hear Art’s thoughts. “Should I say yes so I don’t have to get stuck again or tell him the truth because the alternative would be worse?”

Dr. D’Alleyrand decided he needed to take over and sent Dr. Gumboc to work on another patient and administered three more shots himself, probing as he went to make sure he didn’t inject into a blood stream.  Art’s toes were clenching pretty rhythmically then.

Art’s finger finally got numb and Dr. D’Alleyrand applied a tourniquet and spent almost an hour cleaning the wound, squirting a saline solution through it and actually scraping the bone of debris.  Now, you must know that Art and I love to watch House (medical show) on TV but seeing all this blood in real life is not very easy even though I could see Dr. Cho was thoroughly mesmerized by this. 

When Dr. Gumboc returned carrying what looked like a saw I must have looked surprised because Dr. D’Alleyrand said, “The girl is a lot shorter now.”  (It was actually a cast remover. I should have recognized it from all of Keola’s childhood misadventures.)

It was nearly 2:00 AM and we were getting punchy here. Dr. Gumboc took over and worked on the bone even longer until he was satisfied enough to sew on a fingernail substitute. He insisted on “cat gut” suture saying he preferred it to braided.  “I suppose that’s your gut feeling?” I asked.  Hmmm… no cat gut in the building so Art had to settle for a braided suture to sew on his fake nail.  The finger itself was not sewn up because they feared that sealing an infection into his finger would be more dangerous.

Throughout the procedures we talked about watching House and Grey’s Anatomy which they insisted was “Bogus.”  D’Alleyrand quipped, “He doesn’t even use the cane on the correct hand.”  We wondered how he knew that if he didn’t watch it, too.  As it turned out, they gave Art the same pain killer that Dr. House uses on TV. 

Dr. Cho asked, “How do you feel when they show dumb teacher movies?”

“Like School of Rock?” I asked.

“Whoa, that was a great movie!”  They all chorused.

Well, we like House.

It was 3:00 AM by the time we got home and it was a tiring Saturday.  Art’s finger stayed numb all Friday night and onto Saturday night.  It’s pumped so full of painkiller that I wonder when he’ll really need his pain pills.  The middle finger is wrapped with a huge bandage which resembles a banana or something else, ahem… He tries not to hold it up too often.

Art’s insisting he can still do some work with one hand and actually attempted it yesterday with a drill.  No kidding.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings.  We’re relieved that things went so well and we had truly caring, competent, sensitive doctors and nurses with a great sense of humor at Tripler who went out of their way to treat Art’s wound as if he were their first patient of the day.  Hopefully the finger will heal well and we’ll be able to continue our work without any more injuries.

Until next time, 

Art and Kay

P.S.  The doctors did tell us later that hand injuries are very common in the military and they treat them all the time. (No instruction video was necessary.)

POSTSCRIPT (2016): The finger healed incredibly well and a new fingernail eventually grew out beautifully!