As anyone who has found this blog knows, I work as an IT guy. However, that isn’t who I am. When the lights are turned off in the office I become a sailor, scuba diver, outdoorsman, and also an amateur (very amateur) furniture maker.
I love working with wood and creating something from nothing. But as I learned last night, that comes with perils. Last night, I cut off my left thumb on a radial arm miter saw.
I repeat, last night I CUT OFF (as in amputated) my left thumb, just below the knuckle, with a big-ass power saw.
I worked a long day yesterday. I have been doing that a lot lately. After work I went to our boat and took some measurements for a part that needed making in the shop. I went home, planed down some very nice teak, made a pattern, and then went over to the miter saw to make the first of several very precise cross-cuts.
When using the saw for this purpose, I install a very fine-toothed blade that is designed to cut smoothly and accurately across the grain of the wood. Once I had done that, I started positioning the wood.
After I had it in place, I braced the wood with my left hand and (without realizing it) had my thumb along the edge of the board in a way that put it directly in the path of the blade.
With my right hand I reached up and took hold of the saw grip, which also activates the blade. My focus was on the line I needed to cut; it had to be precise. So, I tuned out everything else (including the position of my thumb), and proceeded to bring the rapidly spinning blade down. I moved deliberately and smoothly to ensure as clean a cut as possible.
The cut was quick. Everything happened really fast.
The next few moments were very surreal. Immediately, something spattered on my safety glasses. Since it was so quick, it took a moment to realize that it was blood. You would think that you would immediately feel intense pain, however that isn’t what happened. I thought I had been stung by a bee for the first millisecond.
Then my brain put two and two together and I realized I had cut myself with the saw. Of course, I was expecting a nick or a flesh wound. I yanked my hand away from the saw and down. It was an automatic reaction that I couldn’t control.
My brain struggled to process what had gone wrong when all of a sudden INTENSE pain swept over me. I brought my left hand to my chest, looked at it, and realized that my thumb was missing. I very nearly passed out.
It’s funny what you think of in the heat of the moment. The pain was going in and out (probably because I was in shock) and all I could think of was the numerous times that I have teased my dog because he never evolved thumbs.
I had just cut off evolution.
I had relegated myself to the same fate as my dog. How was I going to open jars now? That’s one of only a handful of things that a husband is supposed to do!
I scanned the floor, but was unable in my stupor to locate my missing appendage. I ran from the shop, calling for my wife.
The next few hours felt like they flew by in a rotating set of images, like what you see in a movie when they are trying to show what happened over a long period of time. There was the emergency room, pain killers, and surgical consults.
As it turns out, when you can’t find your appendage, the hospital will stop the bleeding and wrap your stub in a sterile pack. They send you home with pain killers and instructions to return the next day for additional consults with plastic surgeons.
So, home I went. I am not sure what time it was when we finally got to bed last night. All I know is that I was physically and emotionally drained. I fell asleep quickly.
This morning I woke to a ringing phone. The room was completely dark. My left thumb still ached from the accident, but not nearly as badly as I would expect. I let the phone ring and laid in bed, in the dark, not wanting to look at my hand.
As I lay there this morning, I was really amazed by how little it really hurt. It wasn’t much more than a dull ache.
I turned on the light and in my drowsy state was confused. The room looked different. I pulled my hand out from under the covers and was shocked to discover my thumb…. right where it has always been. Instantly I was awake and aware of my surroundings. I was in a hotel room.
I started laughing.
So, here’s what really happened. Last night, I did go to the boat. I did make a joke about almost cutting off my thumb to a boat yard guy. Then I went to a hotel room to crash so I could make a 5:30am flight to VA today.
While checking in, I was holding onto the jamb of the entry door when the guy holding the door for me let go and the door slammed on my thumb really hard. He felt bad, I tried to be polite.
I was tired and aggravated and went to bed. From there, my brain did the rest.
One thing I learned from this is that I have extremely vivid dreams when the circumstances are correct.
Interestingly enough, trauma (whether real or imagined) is still trauma. When I realized it was a dream, I felt lucky and grateful; like I had been given a second chance.
I am sure that as a result of this dream I will actually be even more careful than I usually am when I am in the shop. I might even feel some trepidation when I use the miter saw next time. It’s even possible that this non-accident will cost me money in the far flung future as I relay the story to a therapist during, what I am sure will be, a very interesting mid-life crisis.
For now, I take away these lessons:
- There are sayings like: “Measure twice, cut once” and “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure”. They persist for a reason.
- Take nothing for granted.
- Apply the top two lessons to all aspects of your life.
As easily as a slip of the saw can abdicate a digit from your hand, a slip of the tongue can damage a relationship. A slip of the mouse can damage a computer. A momentary lapse in reason can compromise the security of an entire network and all the data that it contains.
So, measure twice. Question what you think you know, and seek the advice of others who may have more or different experience. Examine all possibilities, and make educated, deliberate decisions.
After all, those thumbs aren’t the only miracle of evolution you have. Let’s give that brain a work out too.
Darwin will thank you.
Written by Todd Knapp.
Labels: Envision, fun, IT, Todd