Half the hand I used to be....

Pardon the typos Im typing with a 5 inch diameter index finger with no flexibility.

So April Fools day...psych. This story is no April Fools, The names, places and events where not changed to protect anyone. This is raw, this is real, this is "the Slice."

So at school there is this advertising competition called the 1/2 show. A few of the local agencies take a look at anyone who enters creative work and award them cash prizes...What they can afford to do that in this economy. I smell AIG all over again. JK. Anyways I was very reluctant to put anything in this year because I have nothing really new and interesting due to the amount of time being spent working with TAP and also others. But at the last minute I decide to enter a few campaigns that I have gotten some good feed back on from a few agencies in NYC and Chicago.
So I go along my merry way and print out my work. I begin to lay my work out on matte board and cut them out. I got the first campaign out, no problem. Then came the last campaign. I make my first incision, the razor has penetrated the mate, so I realize im god to cut this thing. As I begin to pull down on the razor it pops out of the matte board jumps the ruler and slices vertically down my left index finger. All I saw at that moment was a chunk of my finger slice down the side of my finger. I immediately jumped up and clasped my hand for dear life. The shock instantly kicked in and I had to really think for about 5 sec. if that really happened. I then looked down at the top of my fist and saw my index finger rolled up and my chunk of skin/tissue/fat dangling from a thin loose piece of still attached skin. I looked up, probably green, and said to the lab, "I need to go to the hospital, i just cut my finger off." Everyone just stared at me, like I just spoke Finish. I said it again, pacing back in forth holding my hand, "I need to go to the hospital I think I just cut off a big portion of my finger." They all heard me this time but unfortunately no one, and I mean NO ONE believed me. "Ha ha HA no way shut up, your lying, april fools." These were all reactions I got for a good 2 minutes. Finally My good friend pat who was right next to me when it happened decided to look down at the scene of the crime. After a glance of the scene he looked up and said, "Uhhh I think he is serious, there is blood splattered all over his ads and mate board." A few believed him but still the majority thought I was Fooling them...what a freaking day to injure yourself I can just imagine...."9-11 emergency what is your emergency?" "Im being robbed at gun point please help!" "Oh ha ha thank you for calling today sr. and an april fools to you too, ok Im gonna go ahead and send a unit out there right away ok sr. (wink wink) muahaha no Im really not, have a great april fools day, bye bye."
So as Im starting to leave to practically take myself to the hospital my good friend Kevin Wunder comes throught the door. Instantly i think to myself, there is a responsible father type. I look at him and say, "Kevin I just cut my finger off I need you to take me to the hospital now." God bless Kevin, he didnt even question, it was probably the look of rage/terror/green that convinced him, but he right away said OK lets go.

So during this entire time in the ad lab walking to the car and driving to the hospital there is barely any blood and no pain. My adrenaline is going through the roof. By the time I get checked in and get my vitals checked it all begins to ware off. The pain becomes real and the blood begins to flow. Im clasping my hand even tighter and the bloods not stopping and coming through every crease and angle of my hand. The doctor checking me in was like, "ok that is bleeding a lot, lets go ahead and block that now." About 6 shots in all angles of the finger later and I have a polish sausage for a finger. I mean It looked like I had Shaq's big toe as an index finger.

I finally get to the back and get stitched up (10 total stitches), minus it being that fast. It took a long time a total of about 2 hr. 45 mins total to get in and out of there. The nurses were great, Kevin, my bro Aaron, and I were having a fun time teasing and chatting it up with them. I got toys and juice, I really milked this thing while there, hell I better they are gonna charge me a butt load for it.

So the morning after, I have this huge bandage around my finger which makes it nearly impossible to type (been working at this for about 45 min) and it kills. All the numbness is gone and Im now left with a throbbing painful stitched up finger. (I wonder if this is what the morning after sleeping with someone that gives you an STD feels like, I would be pissed, good thing I don't mess with that)

But I cant think about the pain, I cant even think about the incident or the actual loss of a chunk of my finger, (pray my finger accepts the chunk they sewed back on). All I can think about is how my story will never live up to the little boy in the curtain next to me who got a pea stuck in his ear because he was trying to hide it. DAMN HIM!!! I cant beat that, I get no where near it. So here''s to you buddy, winner of best hospital story.

It went about a quarter deep and about half way to the first knuckle. (please hide any small children and animals eyes from the screen.)