My Million Dollar Hand Job.

First, for all you perverts out there, this is not what you think so keep moving. Come to think of it, I did pinch a little girl’s butt and that is what started this whole fiasco, so I guess you can stay. See, it all started in seventh grade when I got in trouble for pinching a little girls big butt. As a grown up, I now know it was wrong and a sexist thing to do and I highly discourage all activities like this or similar. As a kid, I thought it was a sign of affection. I was wrong. The girl told the teacher and I was quickly reprimanded. I apologize and all was forgiven. After learning from my mistake, I deducted that it wasn’t a good thing to do. See, I can learn. Weeks later, during a heated argument in math class, between Elsie and Tera, their names have been changed to protect the innocent, and I about some trivial math problem, I told them, “Everybody knows that women can’t do math”. I got angry and pinched Elsie’s butt. I knew it was a bad thing so I immediately ran towards the classroom exit. Elsie turned to Tera and said, “Let’s get him”, and they both began to chase me out the door. Me, being an after school athlete, quickly sprinted out the door and down the large hallway leading to the cafeteria. Not wanting to run through the cafeteria because it might slow me down, I decided to exit the side door to the courtyard. As I approached the door my right hand aimed for the metal piece on the door but it missed it and hit one of the six segmental windows. The glass shattered and I immediately pulled my hand back. What I saw looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator, when he pulled the skin off his hand. Instead of metal, I saw bones. My hand had exploded. I stood in shock looking at my hand. By this time, Elsie and Tera had caught up to me. I turned to them for help, I guess, but they immediately started running and screaming in terror. I shouldn’t said that sexist women joke. Is God a woman? Hmmm. Anyway, I turned towards the cafeteria, the nurse’s office was just on the other side, and started slowly walking. I keep repeating, in a low tone voice while holding my wrist with my left hand, emergency.

The people in the cafeteria freaked out. Blood was squirting out my hand like Spiderman’s web. As I kept repeating the word, emergency, I enter the nurse’s office. One nurse yelled, “Oh my God, Bobby!”, and the other two nurses joined her in escorting me to the bathroom. They began to wash my hand and one nurse turned to the other one and said, “Call his mom and call an ambulance “. They all knew me because of my former asthma attacks in the earlier grades. I kept repeating the word, emergency. I thought to myself, why is it not hurting? After they finished washing my hand, they took out some gauze pads and wraps and began to try and stop the bleeding. Can you say pain? It had arrived. Lots and lots of pain. I fell to the floor with my hand up in the air. I let out blood curling screams, as the nurses started crying and apologizing. They continued to wrap my hand. When they finished, it looked like a giant white boxing glove. The pain subsided and they picked me up off the floor and sat me down in a chair.

My mom and the ambulance arrived about the same time. The nurses briefed her on the situation, as the ambulance personnel loaded me on the stretcher. After the briefing, my mom looked at me, with tight lips, and just shook her head. My mom’s face was very expressive. She never said a word but her face shouted, “You idiot!”.

We arrived at the hospital and they prepared me for immediate surgery. They put my hand in a bowl of epson salt. That was when I finally got a good look at my hand. My palm was split open like a filleted fish. My thumb was completely shattered and my index finger was cut in half and hanging down. The amazing thing was when I lifted my hand out of the solution, the blood that shot out of my index finger looked like tiny X’s all over the sheet due to my artery tube’s shape. I turned to show my mom cause I thought that was so cool. She just shook her head. She never said a word, but her face said it all.

After three operations, two skin grafts, doing everything left handed, sleeping with my cast up in the air tied up under the bottom of the top bunk bed, and 6 months later, my hand was ready to be exposed. As the doctor cut off my cast, I could slowly see the reconstruction of my hand. Boy, it was shocking. It was twice a small as my left hand and my index finger did not bend all the way down. It looked like a baby hand. I began therapy a few days later to strengthen it up. It took a few months, but my hand started to look normal again. My right index finger still can’t close all they way, but after everything my hand has been through, I will take that as a win. So, what have I learned from all of this? Next time you pinch a butt, without permission, just run through the cafeteria 😂.