Day 8: B+W Photo Challenge

Day 8: B&W Photo Challenge

A scene from daily life. We’re coming up on 8 years since I crushed off my finger tip with an industrial sewing machine. I’m never not aware of it. Every couple months it hurts a lot as part of the nail bed tries to do it’s job. It rarely doesn’t hurt on the daily.

This accidental self-inflicted wound on my dominant hand was some very real trauma for me. It’s not that my hands are particularly beautiful to look at, but they were imminently useful. My whole life has revolved around handmade. My entire life.

Losing 3/4” of my main executor of joy-bringing activity was no small loss. I had to learn to hold a pencil again. I sat in bed, on massive pain meds, and learned to knit as my own personal physical therapy practice.

I will never forget the first couple days and nights after it happened, I saw the sewing machine head fall closed onto my hand and take part of my finger as I pulled my hand away. Every time I closed my eyes, it happened again in my mind. I wasn’t getting any sleep. I really couldn’t take the flashbacks anymore. I was furious that this machine had such power over me.

I went to the studio I shared and told that machine in no uncertain terms that it was not the boss of me. I sewed on it. I opened up the head and checked out the oil pan. I learned, mortified, that I hadn’t needed to open it up to do what I was doing when I was injured. Sometimes I still feel a hot flash of shame when I think about that.

My hands still make exquisite craftwork. I relearned my handwriting and pencil grip again, and I don’t try to hide my hands anymore. But this injury changed me. It’s certainly the most visible of my injuries, and it still feels personal.