|8 May 2002 @ 18:40|
A Lament for Finny's Finger....
It happened so fast.... I hadn't concidered that my good friend Warwick would miss with a ten pound sledge hammer by so much (ten inches). There was a shearing pain, then by the time I laid eyes on it nothing, numbness, shock. It was a sight, the end of my left hand index finger was a salad of bone, nail, skin tissue and flesh. What was also a sight was me after looking at the mess holding my hand and staggering over Warwick's front lawn swearing. Warwick in the meantime had both his hands afixed to the sides of his head and was apoligising profusely as he wandered trance-like around the lawn. What a Monty Pythonesque scene.
In a blur of controlled panic and shock induced serenity, I was within 30 minutes at the A&E of Middlemore Hospital. Middlemore serves South Auckland which contains the lowest social economic grouping of people in Auckland and the largest population of Polonesians anywhere. Pushed out by the Yuppie developments in the inner city. Over the next fourty hours I had the wound washed and was given pain killers but nothing else. For eight hours I was in a gown awaiting surgery. At the last moment the surgeon was called away and I was told to come back the next day. Hardly anybody was interested in my analysis of the current health system in New Zealand. A lone fourth year medical student politely heard me out and agreed on every point I made and that I should write to the Minister of Health. He lamely offered that they do what they can. I felt sad, knowing that what he said was right. With private heath taking the cream, leaving Public Health under staffed and under resoursed. Christ, Finny it's only a finger and not even all of it! More >