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Garage Days

June 26, 2006

On 6/6/06 I made various comments about how it was silly to be scared just because of the date. It wasn’t the Apocalypse– maybe it was just karma– but some cosmic force decided to give me comeuppance for my remarks.

My garage door bit me. It wasn’t the garage door’s fault. I could have gone out the front door, and avoided the whole problem; or, I could have just left the garage door up. But no. You see, the electric opener for the door was inoperative due to a piece of connecting metal snapping apart. When I returned from the Elizabeth interview on Tuesday, I parked in the driveway (which I don’t usually get to do) and decided that I would open the door. Later, shortly after I last posted, I had to leave for work, so I exited through the garage and decided to close the door. However, my right hand was occupied. The smartest thing to do would have been to leave the door open, since all the kids were home. The next-smartest thing would have been to deposit the contents of my right-hand (a leftover breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee) in my car and then at least have both hands available for the door-closing procedure. Instead, I tried to lower the door with just my left hand. I did not have full control, and I was trying to hold it by the hinge between the lower and middle panels. Now, guess what happened…

The garage door fell shut, alright. Unfortunately, the tips of my middle and ring finger were caught in abovementioned hinge. Not only did they hurt like hell, but I couldn’t extract them. I was stuck, kneeling in my driveway, two fingers of my left hand stuck in the garage door. I started to panic only because I didn’t think I could get anyone’s attention. After a minute or so of banging on the door, I did. Soon enough all four kids and two neighbors were out. Their first idea was to try raising the door, which I quickly and vehemently instructed them NOT to do, as I had already gingerly tried and found that it only tightened the hinge. I reached in my pocket to retrieve my cell phone, handed it to Dora and instructed her to call 911.

Soon enough, Litteton Fire Rescue were on their way. I couldn’t wait for them to get there, obviously. I could feel myself tingling all over, on top of the pain; I knew I was losing circulation in that hand. But they arrived within 2-3 minutes. I had no idea how they were going to extricate me, but as it turns out, all it took was a simple crowbar, prying up the aluminum enough for me to yank my hand out. They warned me that it would damage the door; at that point, I didn’t care if they demolished the damn door! But the damage is fairly minimal, I think. In any case, the door came out of it much better than my fingers.

To make the story stranger, it was actually Maria’s ex-husband who took me to the hospital. He had come to pick up Corin for the night and just happened to arrive in the middle of the scene. I wasn’t too picky, after the firemen had informed me that an ambulance ride would put us back around $600. (Who knew? I didn’t…) I walked into the ER, checked in, and soon enough Maria arrived. Though she was more amused than sympathetic– OK, it wasn’t my most brilliant move — she did stay by my side. Amazingly enough, my entire time in the ER only lasted a bit over two hours, during which they took X-rays, saw nothing broken, gave me some Vicodin, and wrapped the two fingers up in what they call “birdcages.”

We went home, ate dinner, and soon enough I was feeling downright wobbly from the drug. I lied down and passed out. I had another interview the next day, at 1 p.m. I didn’t want to have to explain, plus they really got in the way when driving, so I decided to take off the birdcages. However, I wore them again when I returned to work the next day after that, and repeated the story roughly 47 times that day.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. July 2, 2006 10:57 pm

    Finally, the garage door story. Yikes … it sounds horrible and reminded me of the time I tried to clean some gunk off the bottom of the freezer without thoroughly drying my hand first. It got completely stuck, and I couldn’t manage to yell loudly enough to wake my mom from her nap. I had to pull my hand off, leaving much of my skin frozen to the freezer floor. Also not a fun incident to recount a million times. Doh!


  2. June 14, 2008 11:56 am

    Ow! How is your finger today?


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