Playing around with a notebook, some washi tape and a scalpel, I stopped to have a tiny bite of granola, freshly baked by Muv- it was delicious by the way. When out the corner of my eye, I spied the scalpel rolling off the edge of the table. My lightening-fast reaction was to catch said knife between my forearm and my thigh. I obviously imagined myself as some sort of cricketer.
The next thing I knew the handle of the scalpel was dangling from my arm and the entire blade was embedded just below my wrist.
To cut a long story short (no pun intended)- although the gash itself was small, it had gone deep enough in that it had caused some damage. I had investigative surgery and it was found that I had severed a nerve, but luckily the tendons were still intact.
Six weeks later and I still have no sensation along the back of a couple of my fingers, and super-sensitive nerve endings on the back of my hand, which rather feels like I’ve suffered a burn.
There is no guarantee that my hand will ever be back to ‘normal’ and I obviously have a whopper of a scar, which is still rather sore, but it could have been a lot worse had the blade entered at a different point. I’m so thankful that I still have the use of all of my fingers- imagine the difficulty of learning to craft one-handed.