Chain saw massacre

Ok so my blog recently seems to be more about my health than my life as a worshipper, but unfortunately my family has been hit hard by another hospital stay.  This time it is not me - but my husband.  I entitled this post a chain saw massacre, but in reality it was a chop saw serious incident.  My poor husband on Sunday managed to accidentally cut his hand into 2 pieces with a chop saw.  It has to be the single most traumatic experience in my life.  I heard my husband scream from the garden and I was 1st on the scene.  And blood was everywhere.  I grabbed the nearest tea towel and applied as much pressure as I could to his wrist and hand.  All 4 of my children were screaming so I gave them all tasks to do - the eldest phoned the ambulance, the 2nd child ran to find a neighbour, the next child ran and got my shoes and handbag (so I could go with John) and the youngest kept me in a supply of clean tea towels.  Our family in shock worked like a well oiled machine.

I stood holding John's arm up for an eternity waiting for the ambulance to arrive.  It was the longest time ever and John was fazing in and out and I was trying to keep him talking too.

I had been in bed when the accident happened as I was not only recovering from my Omental Infarction, but also had flu and a raging temperature.  By the time we got the the hospital I felt so ill and it was so hard to see John writhing in absolute agony while they saw to him.

They couldn't operate straight away as someone else came in with a life threatening head injury so John had to wait.... and wait (all the while his arm was leaking blood).  By the time the theatre was free the surgeon was so tired that he decided to clean John's hand under a local anaesthetic and quartorize the leaking veins - strapping his hand together so that John would wait until the morning when the specialised hand team were in.  The surgeon then did all the minor plastics surgeries through the night to make space for John in the theatre the next morning. 

Waiting for John to come back from surgery was agonising.  He was gone 6 hours and each hour felt like a day.  There was a chance he would lose the thumb part of his left hand, but when he came back onto the ward I saw his pink thumb popping out of the top of his plaster cast.

They have managed to save his thumb, but they think it might not function properly again.  He has also severed all the nerves over the top of his hand so he will not have any feeling there.

After 4 days in hospital I picked him up and brought him home with a shed load of medicines.  He is sleeping about 23 hours a day at the moment but he has only been home 2 days.

Today we have to go back to the hospital for a dressing change.  We will finally get to see how they have fixed his hand.  I am sure it will look like Frankenstein for a while - but I am so pleased that they have managed to put him back together.  They had to piece together bones, tendons and muscle so it is a miracle he still has all this digits.

Now we have to walk the path to recovery...