Die of a Finger

Hey there.

 I came home from a long morning of watching two little boys, to a delicious meal waiting for me on the table.  Not only that, I came home to a sparkling kitchen and cleaned up room.  My husband loves me.

Did I ever tell you about the time I took him to the hospital?

It's a great story.  Let me share it with you, k?

Back in our fairly-early dating days, we spent many an evening in Johnson Hall Lounge- the downstairs community room of my dorm.  This is where our story really takes off. 

Earlier that evening, Jered showed us a banged up finger: a result of lifting weights for football.  One of his buddies, whom he had been spotting, dropped the bench press bar and Jered's finger found itself smashed between the bar and the bar holder.  It wasn't a pretty sight.

A couple hours later, while we were watching a movie in dear old JHL, he was still mentioning the pain.  However, halfway through the flick, he began exclaiming over and over again that it was getting worse.  Much worse.  To the extent that he was up and pacing back and forth and bending over in pain.

He called a brother and his dad to see what they thought he should do.  I think one of us joked about going to the hospital.  Not an hour later, and we were on our way.  I had remembered passing one on the way to a friend's house once, so I headed in that direction.

We eventually made it to the ER, and waited for what felt like forever.  By this point, I had also developed intense pain in the form of a migraine.  We made quite the pair sitting there in the waiting room: Jered with his ever-swelling finger, and me with my growing sensitivity to light and sound.

Finally, we were escorted to a room.  I think it was in the pediatrics area because I remember sitting in a rocking chair and seeing bright colors.  Truth be told- I felt so awful that it all seemed a little dream like.

So there we were.  Finger and head throbbing.  I mostly remember the light being bright, but kind of dim at the same time, like an artsy film.  And both of us being completely miserable.

I think it was almost a full hour later, that a nurse finally came in and took an X-ray of Jered's finger.  Jered pleaded with her to tell him it was broken, even if it wasn't because of his pride.

She went out of the room to examine the results.  I looked at Jered and told him I loved him.

He said, "Really?  Even though I'm almost to die of a finger?" 

His exact words.  I loved that.

Well, sad to say Jered's finger was just swollen with blood, not broken.  She took a huge, hot needle, and stuck it through his nail.  It was disgusting.

At least he had some instant relief.  However, the pain continued on for quite some time.

That's all I remember about that night.  Mostly I remember Jered's question, and how I loved him even a little more after that.

Well guys, I must go now.  Talk to you later.

Aim