Heart In My Hand

A summary of events I experienced resulting from a bone-crushing injury.

 

   They say that when you face death your entire life flashes before your eyes. But when the unforgiving assault of metal and gravity came down upon me, such events were not experienced. There was no “life” to flash! –No life; no pain; no fear; no love; no world; nothing. Even time itself seemed to have abandon me, and the only thing that existed in those few eternal seconds was me, my maker, and my instincts.

  

   The events leading up to this moment –The crack; the hill; the speed; the turn- Now seemed like pre-planned moments. –Events waiting nineteen years for me to come along and put into occurrence. And now that our destinies had finally met, the safe, protected, happy-ending world I once lived in was now overcome with reality.

  

   The large crack (that had been waiting so patiently for this day) managed to jolt my three wheels onto only two. When I cut a sharp left to avoid hitting the vehicles parked in front of me, the fork lift that I was confined to begun its slow motion tip to the right.

   

   As the vehicle fell to its side my body was forced to do the same. They say to keep both hands on the wheel, but had I been trained and licensed I still question if I could have reacted any differently. If I had reacted differently it’s quite possible that my injury could have been much worse. The 3000lbs high-low did not land on my head, or my body (which happens often in cases like this); but when I reached out to protect myself from the fast approaching ground the top of the cage bounced off of my right hand with a crunch!

  

   Only a few days earlier I started wearing work gloves with the fingers cut out, and a wrist brace due to the tedious requirements of my job. If I had not been wearing them my hand would surely of been amputated! (Maybe those gloves were waiting for this moment as well.) Fortunately the top of the fork lift did not pin me, and I was able to move.

  

   For a few seconds afterwards I was in denial of my injury and just held my wrist and thought,  ‘It’s okay, just wait it out.’ At the time there was no pain; just a harsh tingle that felt as though I had hit my funny bone. But upon further inspection I watched my glove become dark with blood, and the fingers sticking out of the glove were badly misshapen and swelling before my eyes. Later I was told that I said “I’m never going to masterbate again!” which sounds like me, though I do not remember saying it.

  

   To say, “I broke my hand.” would have been the understatement of the year. The impact had shattered my 2^nd, 3^rd, and 4^th metacarpal, and almost every bone in the fingers they were attached to. I remember looking as they cut off the glove and saw that all of the guts had been forced out of the web between my thumb and index, and the knuckle to my pinky was protruding from my palm. But to this day I cannot recall any pain -Due to the shock, I imagine. That is, until the following day.

    

   I woke from my eight hour reconstruction surgery to find a road map of stitches across a hand so swollen that they could not close the wounds.

  

   The hand specialist was a small Asian woman that weighed no more than eighty pounds, but will always be the scariest b***h I ever met. With braces screwed into the bones of my hand, and a series of pins throughout, she would grab my fingers and pull them up and down as though she was tugging with a dog. This was when the real pain began.

  

   My fingers were freezing up fast and I was made to wear a machine that would extend and contract them all day and all night; causing flashes of pain similar to forcing your arm back the wrong way. Despite the heavy narcotics I ate like candy the agony was so immense that I would often cry out loud to each of the many waves of pain that would wash over.

  

   I would have one more surgery with the Asian b***h, consisting of hardware removal, skin graphs, and the insertion of buttons, wires, and more pins. I remember when she pulled the pins out, she apparently put them in there pretty good because she was unable to get them out! With a pair of needle-nose plyers she jerked them back and forth with a pain so deep and unbearable that I seriously debated pushing her away. Little did I know this was just the beginning.

  

   On my middle finger (which was the most damaged) were four buttons: Two on top and two on the bottom. Between them were sets of wires tangled together to hold the pins that ran through it in place. Even now I wonder how I was supposed to keep my fingers in motion with pins and wires running through the joints. To remove the buttons and wire she first cut the top buttons free, then pulled down on the bottom buttons as the wires dragged through my exhausted finger and seemed to snag and tear everything it passed along the way.

  

   Later I would switch surgeons and have five more surgeries.  -None of which gave me any mobility.

  

   Then, due to my ever growing symptoms, I was diagnosed with Reflex Sympathetic Disorder (RSD). The block of wood that had been my hand was causing me so much agony, and sweating so bad, that they thought it had to do with the messages between my hand and my brain. The solution was a series of shots in my neck with a needle about nine inches long. The plan was to inject a kind of poison into my spinal cord to scramble the over-reacting messages. We did this nine times and I found absolutely no comfort.

  

   Between May ’99 and the winter of ’02 I had seven surgeries, nine nerve blocks, and over nine thousand hours of physical therapy, and still my hand felt like an infected toothache. Even the wind blowing onto the coarse hairs that had grown was enough to make me cringe.

  

   These days I suffer through what feels like cancer as the bones attached to my artifial knuckles slowly eats itself away. I used to draw. I used to play guitar. I used to live. Now, the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is the handful of pills I take to calm the throbbing heart I hold in my hand every single day.

Reviews

[Michael X]

Kc.. It amazes me.. how you are able to describe the events..the opeing line.. grabbed me.. to poner what it is to see life flashing before one's eyes.. what an harrowing experience..this writing makes the reader relive the event with full detail my honest opinion.. very well written .. i could fully visualize the entire scene.. i would say a fine testament to clarity and perception... Painful!!.. i'm still feeling the effect.

[Crystal Lynn]

Very nice. The exclamation points distract a little, though, because they are sometimes inappropriate. I understand you are trying emphasize some points, but at times, they seem unnecessary, because you should let the reader take in the gory details. They will, in effect, create their own exclamations; I know I certainly did, just thinking about that kind of injury and the constant repercussions of the accident. Other than that, I enjoyed reading your work. It was the kind of thing I was looking for in my contest. Thank you.

[Nickolaus A. Pacione]

Good start can you flesh this one out to at least 2200 words because the contest you entered this in requires longer stories -- because they might be considered for a magazine issue down the line. Expand more on the story and take each part of the paragraph then make longer paragraphs out of them.

[hannahthemaid]

As i walked through each one of these words
i dare say i felt your torments and your agonys as though i too was of this ...
A powerful write ...

[Celeste Hayne]

KC, you have a great sense of describing the details with such accurate imagery. I was right with you and can relate (different accidents and different diseases). Keep up the great writing, and know that I am sending you lots of friendship, blessings and hugs to help with your pain. Celeste

[Jim Palasty]

Dude....that's brutalizing to read.
I can only imagine going through it, as I cry like a schoolgirl with a skinned knee if I do something as minor as stubbing my toe. From what I've seen, you've done better with this than most people.
I guess the only thing I could say is, it could have been worse. But then again, waking up with this everyday...losing the ability to artistically express yourself...can't think of much worse than that.

Stay strong, KC, you've got friends!

Jim

[Wolfwind Words]

Wow! Thats painful just read about it! Hopefully some day, they might just be able to clone a new hand for you and attatch it, good as new. One can pray! :)
You are brave person to deal with that much pain. I couldn't imagine what i would do in a circumstance like that.
You have definantly made me look upon fork lift drivers with new respect and admiration. I see them every day as they load and unload the trailers I pull from here to there.
I agree though...it could have been worse. I guess you have to be thankful for that.

Infinity's Shadow