So, I thought all was going well with my little 'ole finger.
I was so wrong.
I noticed a week ago while getting ready for church, that my finger looked...grey. I asked Derik, "Should I ask [our doctor friend] about this at church today? I'm sure he hates "working" at church, but if he could just look at it and give me the thumbs up, I'd feel a lot better about it."
So, during Sunday School, I asked him. He said, "Yeah, let's go in after church. It looks a little infected. I want to make sure it hasn't gone any deeper than the wound itself."
As a side-note: I've been somewhat nauseous for the past couple of days. When I discover, upon questioning him further, that he's planning on opening the wound completely, and cutting away at it a little, it only gets worse.
I make Derik take me home immediately so I can sleep and just not think about it.
My nap was too short.
We went in, and luckily Doc numbs the finger first. I have never given birth, so I cannot say what this compares to, but it is excruciating. So, it's numb, and if I don't watch, all's well. Doc looks up at me and says, "You must be numb, because I'm touching your bone right now."
I feel sick again, and lay back on the bed.
They take x-rays to make sure the infection hadn't gotten into the bone. "What happens if the infection is in the bone?", I ask. Doc looks at me for what seems a long time, and says, "Well... we'll have to ask an Orthopedic doctor."
Basically he won't tell me.
Okay. A little more nervous at this point. May I have a going-to-be-sick-bucket please? One is immediately brought to my bed.
Luckily, the x-rays come back good. No infection in the bone. But please come back tomorrow, so we can open the bandage and check it again.
"You're going to open it again? "
So, I work myself up to it all day Monday. I was going to go by myself, but chickened out in the end and made Derik (and Nate, because of no babysitter) go with me.
Doc comes in, greets us, and proceeds to remove my bandage. He is not very gentle. (I don't blame him for this: He is still a very good friend of ours. I'm sure he wanted to get it over with as quickly as I did.) He pulls it halfway off. (Remember how I said that the numbing shot was my most painful experience? I was wrong. Dead wrong.) I start bawling, and plead with him to stop, just wait, please don't do this, please stop. All the while bawling my eyes out. It hurt so bad. He tells me "Hang on, I'm almost done," and just PULLS the remaining bandage off.
I scream openly.
I hold nothing back.
My vocal chords are at full force.
And bless his heart, he says, "Wow, I don't think I can hear out of this ear now!"
I didn't care.
Then they made me wash it. MADE me wash it. I did it by myself, just so they would keep their bloody hands off my bloody hand.
So now I get to do this on a daily basis for the next six weeks, or until it is completely healed. If it scabs up completely, I have to take the entire scab off - or Doc will do it for me.
I have found ways around the scab issue: Neosporin.
I thank the heavens above that somebody created this wondrous product. It actully prevents scabbing. I've only had to "rip off" a bandage once this week.
And my finger is still infection-free.