by Father Mark Goldasich
“E-YOW!” This exclamation was followed by an intense intake of breath and a quick look down at the damage. Yeah, it was not good . . . at all.
Let me give you the details. On Feb.19, my day off, I got excited that an Amazon package had just been delivered. As I went to retrieve the package, I kept the front door ajar to keep in the heat. I reached to grab the package with my left hand, slipped on some snow and reflexively pulled on the door to keep my balance. Unfortunately, my right index finger was still in the metal door as it closed.
Without getting too graphic, I had a deep gash on that finger right above the top knuckle. The injury was not something I could doctor at home. Since I didn’t trust myself to drive, I asked Jennifer, one of our religious ed directors at the parish, to take me to the emergency room.
I was relieved that the emergency room at St. Luke’s near the Legends in Kansas City, Kansas, was not crowded. I was quickly ushered into one of the rooms where I knew I’d have to explain how the injury happened. How embarrassing to say that I shut my own finger in a door rather than injuring it preparing a gourmet, five-course meal!
After they cleaned things up and took a couple of X-rays, they said I needed some stitches. (Incredibly, I’ve never had stitches before.) I’m not going to lie: getting some shots in my finger to deaden it was not the most pleasant thing. And after they dressed the wound and put a big splint on it, I got a bonus: a tetanus shot.
Over the next week, I took antibiotics and then visited a hand surgeon where I found out that, thanks be to God, I wouldn’t require surgery. I do have a much smaller splint on my finger now for the next few weeks but that’s a small price to pay for my stupidity.
Sadly, though, my “pro bowler’s career” on Monday nights in Lawrence is now in the gutter.
Naturally, my right hand is my dominant one. I never imagined how inconvenient it is not to have the use of that pointer finger. Everything’s more complicated — tying shoes, buttoning things, turning a key in a door, showering, handwriting. And for a touch typist like me, composing this column last week was an “adventure,” leading to scads of misspelled words and “colorful” language. (Yes, it’s now on my next reconciliation list.)
I recount all this not for your sympathy, but because of what came to mind these past couple of weeks. In this season of Lent, we often focus only on the things that we’re giving up. But that can obscure the many blessings that are still a part of our lives.
The use of my right finger has been inconvenient but, wow, I’m still so blessed: the fact that only one finger and not my entire hand was injured; having gracious people to give me a ride to the emergency room and wonderful medical people; having access to medicine and insurance; and even the opportunity to make my left hand do more work for a change.
One other blessing is finally having a microphone — that I didn’t have last week — so I can dictate this column and watch the words magically appear on my computer. My patience and my language have both improved markedly!
So, it’s already a really good Lent for me! Thanks be to God!
