pull my finger...

so i'm chilling at work yesterday and i get a call from renato on my cell. he very calmly (okay, that's a lie) tells me that alex chopped his finger off in my living room, that there is blood all over the house, and that they are on the way to the emergency room in alhambra. i went down to the hospital (breaking a large set of traffic laws i imagine) to find that alex wasn't dead, and that renato had exaggerated a little bit. however, alex did lose a part of his right pinky finger that they could not reattach. imagine drawing a line from just above the outermost joint on your right pinky, to about 30% of the tip on the same side of the pinky. that's what he lost. the nail is gone, and the remainder of the pinky looked like a wonton floating around in the water that i suppose was the metled ice that kept it cold in hopes that it could be reattached. all in all, it could have been worse, but i am bummed for alex having to lose any part of his finger at all. he is at home on vicadin (yaaaaayyyyyy!!) resting and obsessing over his history class as usual.

i went home to clean up the blood before sonia got home, because i didn't want her to have to see all of that. there wasn't as much as i thought there would be, nor was there evidence of the kennedy-assasination-like "squirting blood" that renato claims to have seen. nonetheless, it was nasty to clean up and made me feel bad for alex. it made me feel even worse that i checked my new couch for blood as soon as i stepped foot in the door. i guess it's not wrong per se, because i am definitely more concerned for him than i am for this couch. but it still feels wrong being happy that there are not blood stains on my furniture.

oh yeah, I forgot to mention how it happened. i have a loose window in my living room that has given renato, sonia, and me black and blue fingers because it chooses to fall down on them instead of staying where it is supposed to. alex was opening that window and didn't know the tricks...needless to say, i busted out some wood screws and my makita and fixed that window yesterday.

this all just goes to show how fragile the human body is, and that we can buy the farm at any moment. next time i write in this blog, i could be dead. okay, maybe not dead...