Dad was sawing a door in half with a jigsaw. As he finished, the halves fell inwards, somehow knocking the saw out of my dad's hand, upwards and around, and it cut my dad's pinky off. They tried reättaching it, but no go. This was in late 1990.
A friend of mine, in Minnesota, once called me at 11PM (my time) on a weeknight, from her car. She needed directions to a hospital.
Naturally I asked her to give me a little more detail, i.e. was she dying, and it turned out that her father had been installing the large springs on his new garage door. Well, it turns out there's a reason that in some states it's illegal to do this yourself. He was home alone (wife out of town) out in rural MN, and he was stretching the spring, and the spring contracted, grabbing and nipping off the tip of his right index finger, up to the first little joint. It didn't release his hand, so it yanked his arm downward so fast that he was pulled bodily off his stepstool and broke his hand and arm in the process.
He had to run half a mile to the nearest neighbor to get help, and he had the tip of his finger on ice, but the doctor said that, while they could re-attach it, it'll never feel right, work right, or touch right and since he's a self-employed consultant, his health coverage wasn't going to pay for much of the microsurgery required. So he does without.
If you ever meet him, ask him about his hand, and he'll tell you a story about the time he went fishing for Baracuda. Don't know how to find him? Go to Minnesota, and ask for "Stumpy." (Actually, according to the St. Paul Police blotter, there are multiple men named "Stumpy" in his area. hunh.)
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I'm quite happy to still have all my appendages.
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Naturally I asked her to give me a little more detail, i.e. was she dying, and it turned out that her father had been installing the large springs on his new garage door. Well, it turns out there's a reason that in some states it's illegal to do this yourself. He was home alone (wife out of town) out in rural MN, and he was stretching the spring, and the spring contracted, grabbing and nipping off the tip of his right index finger, up to the first little joint. It didn't release his hand, so it yanked his arm downward so fast that he was pulled bodily off his stepstool and broke his hand and arm in the process.
He had to run half a mile to the nearest neighbor to get help, and he had the tip of his finger on ice, but the doctor said that, while they could re-attach it, it'll never feel right, work right, or touch right and since he's a self-employed consultant, his health coverage wasn't going to pay for much of the microsurgery required. So he does without.
If you ever meet him, ask him about his hand, and he'll tell you a story about the time he went fishing for Baracuda. Don't know how to find him? Go to Minnesota, and ask for "Stumpy." (Actually, according to the St. Paul Police blotter, there are multiple men named "Stumpy" in his area. hunh.)
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Award
(Anonymous) 2007-06-16 09:20 am (UTC)(link)Thib ;-)