The Finger

Our newest patient was admitted because he bit off his finger. No, I don't know why. He and his mom walked up to our floor, laughing and joking. I figured that they were visitors until I saw his bandaged hand. It was him. We were expecting him, but I thought perhaps he might arrive in restraints, strapped to a gurney. Surely, someone who would bite off their finger would be wildly out of control. But he seemed perfectly fine.

I took him to his room and his first concern was how to change the channels on the TV. His second concern was getting some dinner. We took care of those issues and he was happy.

His finger can't be re-attached. For the rest of his life, people will be asking him what happened to his finger and he's going to have to figure out some kind of answer. He'll have to live with the consequences of his moment of idiocy for the rest of his life.

He couldn't possibly be as carefree as he appears. While smiling and laughing with the nurses and wondering what to watch on TV, he must be hiding the inner torment that he feels. I hope that he doesn't bite off any more fingers during the night before he can get his psych consult.