Yet another incident that happened just minutes before quitting time at the jail.
There was just 30 minutes left in my day. I was finishing up paperwork from a transport, when a call came over the radio that Greenville PD needed assistance with a combative customer at the back door. Since I was only about fifty feet from there I figured I should respond. Right? Wrong. I should have let somebody else do it! I pulled on a pair of latex gloves as I headed out of the book-in department and approached the area in question. Greenville PD and their substance addled friend came through the door into the holding area. He clearly wasn't interested inbeing a guest at the Hunt County Hilton! The control room opperator, watching on camera, saw that I was there and popped the electronic lock on the inner door for me to enter the area and help. I was just about to slide sideways through the door when the fine, upstanding citizen in question decided to jerk away from the Greenville officer. When he did this he stumbled into the door I was about to go through causing it to slam shut. My left hand was still on the door frame at that time which caused a party I'd just as soon not have been invited to! You see, these doors weigh hundreds of pounds and they slam with an unforgiving force.
In the heat of the moment I yanked my hand back out of instinct. I did not notice the door was already shut on my finger. I was running on adrenaline and as quickly as the door was reopened I went after the inmate. That's when I had one of those odd feelings that something wasn't right. I looked at my right glove and saw that the tip of the pinky finger part was ripped. I peered inside and...let's just say my first thought was "It ain't ever looked like THAT before! I must have been in shock because all I remember was telling the cops, "He cut my freaking finger off!" It wasn't hurting. It was just mangled.
About that point another transport officer came and saw my hand and all the blood. She grabbed me by the arm and said, "We need to get you to the ER." Off we went! All along the way I kept stopping and showing people my hand and repeating "He cut my freaking finger off!" It was just the end of the finger, but it was MY end of MY finger and I had grown quite attached to it over the years!
The trip to the hospital was "interesting" to say the least. My partner was driving like a 1970's Meatloaf song, you know...A Bat Out Of...well you understand I'm sure. I was laughing and telling her I can live without the end of my finger. Don't get us killed!"
When we arrived the ER folks asked what we were there fore. I just held up my bloody hand and they jumped up and took me to the trauma room. Soon the feeling was coming back to my hand and it was not a good thing! The nice nurses hooked me up to a morphine drip and I was once again feeling no pain! We had a great time taking selfies with my jacked up hand and my morphine bag! I liked my morphine bag! Before long the doctor came in and did his thing. He was actually able to save the end of the finger and reattach it! Once the morphine wore off the pain came back, but I had a perscription for something or other and my wife, who had been called by my partner, took me to the pharmacy where I regaled them with my story while waiting on my meds.
After two or three months of rehab and other such fun I was able to return to work. I did not, however, make it a habit to offer my assistance with combative newcomers to the jail after this incident!
By the way, the guy who caused this ruckus got 5 years for assault causing serious bodily injury.
No comments:
Post a Comment