Fingers and Hands A Tale of Baba’s Week

This week has been eventful to say the least, I have been manically preparing for CRAFTfest and have been trying to work every moment that Baba has not been around to get on top of all the things that have to be made and keeping on top of helping the other stall holders in my advertising group.

Tuesday was another day where I was catching up and in the craft room busy making things. Baba had gone up to my mum and dads, we had both had lunch up there and then I left him to play with the intention of making at least two albums while he was up there. If only I had known I wouldn’t have bothered to start.

It was a bit of a disaster as soon as I started quickly realising that actually the girl that I had was not going to be enough to make the two albums that I wanted, so I resigned myself to making just the one album and went on a search for some more girl online. Only to be confronted with the dreaded OUT OF STOCK tab where ever I went to shop. After an eternity I eventually found some more glue once I had sourced all of my usual shops and got settled into finishing off my five page album.

I must have only been crafting for about 30 mins, when the phone rang. I have got really strict with the phone at home, and when I am crafting I try to leave it downstairs so that I am not distracted by cold callers while I am trying to work. So I ignored it, something in me said that I thought it was my mum, due to the constant ringing and I was right. As soon as the main phone went down the mobile started to ring.

I answered the phone to be presented with screaming in the background from Baba and the question can he have normal plasters or which ones does he need (Baba is allergic to plasters so he is only allowed hypoallergenic) I instantly thought that he had fallen over, to be told that the wind had caught the door as he was walking outside and his fingers had been shut in the door. It is a fate that has happened to us all up there, the way the wind blows through the house on days makes the doors very unpredictable and I think all of us as a child have had the horrible experience of our fingers being shut in the door!

I decided that I would go up and check on Baba as he was refusing to move his fingers so we all thought it was best that he went straight to the doctors to get them checked out.

He was still screaming when I arrived, and screamed all the way to the doctors. Just as we arrived in the doctors car park he commented that he could now wiggle his fingers but couldn’t bend them, which was an improvement on what he was doing.

We got him in the doctors and the nurse came right out to see him. I had already been told by mum that he had a black nail that looked like it was going to come off, and the nurse had a touch around all of his fingers. Baba bent them all and could feel everything apart from behind this black nail. The nurse decided that as we had come right down, then they would lazer the nail to get out all of the blood that had built up behind the nail.

I wasn’t 100% sure what she was going to do so agreed willingly I don’t think I would have done so if I had known what was happening.

We went into the nurses room, and she got out this little machine, and literally zapped Baba’s nail with a bit of heart and the smell was hideous. Oh did Baba scream, it was awful to hold him as she had to do it again, and the scream the second time was filled with tears he was sobbing and shouting and screaming. He was not happy.

The nurse tried to look at his finger and got told in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t looking by Baba. We managed to get a quick look and the nail was completely clear and the blood had all gone. It had done the trick but he was still crying and was in a violently bad mood at this point.

We were then told we were free to go, that the rest of his fingers were bruised but would be ok, and nothing that calpol or nurofen would not fix. Baba was shattered you could see that he was, and drenched with tears, sweat and water, (squeezed out from the flannel covering his fingers.)

We didn’t even get back through town before he had fallen asleep and in hindsight I think it was a good thing. He slept for a few hours and I think it was much better medicine than any calpol or nurofen that could have been given. As he woke up sore, but in a good mood anyway. And almost a little impressed to show off his war wounds.

Where ever we have been this week he has shown someone what he has done to his hand but to be honest he seems completely fine. He has a couple of black fingers and is missing quite a bit of skin and is grazed and now has two holes in his nail but it could have been a lot worse, so I think he got off a little lightly. As for mum she is now busy making door stops so that it never happens again.