Betsy's Accident

On August 13th, I had no inkling that I was in any danger. I was interacting with a dog I knew well; a big dog that was always happy to be with me. He had brought me the ball and I was trying to get him to let it go. I had done the very same thing five minutes earlier with success, but this time when I reached back with my right hand to give his collar a tug, we were suddenly airborne. He leapt to my right and my fingers got entangled in his collar. I landed hard on my shoulder and hip. For a second all I felt was that pain, but it subsided quickly. As I sat up, I felt a burning in my hand. I looked down and could not believe what I was seeing; my fingernail was gone and so was the top half inch of my finger. My right hand, my dominant hand, my middle finger. I held the amputated limb with my other hand, trying to stop the bleeding. The owner of the dog was crying, “Oh no oh no oh no.” I got to my feet and began to look for the rest of my finger, but I could not find it as the tennis court we were on was strewn with leaves and dirt. I was nauseous and lightheaded.

A neighbor walking by with her dog and called out, “Betsy are you OK?”

And I said, “No I’m not.”

“What should we do?” “

“One of you needs to take me to the emergency room and the other one needs to take care of the dogs.”

The lady who lived closest to the park said she would go get her car. A few minutes later, I was in her car, dizzy nauseous, and bleeding. Thankfully the hospital was only a mile away and the emergency room was empty.

The nurses winced as they saw my severed finger and called out “traumatic amputation”. Everyone went into high gear and I was almost immediately in a room. They took x-rays. Thankfully only a little bone was missing.

Meanwhile, my neighbor Amy had rushed to the tennis court when she heard what happened. She found a group of women getting ready to play Pickleball and told them we needed to find part of my finger. One of the ladies actually found it! Amy brought it to the hospital on ice, but they could not attach it.

Quicker than I would’ve ever expected, a hand surgeon was stitching up my hurt finger. The accident had happened at 7:30 in the morning, and before lunchtime I was home. But that sadly was not the end of my suffering. The pain was intense as if someone were holding a blow torch to my finger. Nerves in our hands are linked together, so not only was my severed finger hurt but my fingers on each side we’re also burning.   

I was in so much pain by late afternoon that I couldn’t imagine how I was going to sleep. My daughter called the hand surgeon and he told me I could double the narcotic as well as the ibuprofen. So, I did.    

Cindy Browning came and spent the night with me. I was glad not to be alone. Around 4 AM I began to shake. We googled it and decided it was probably a good thing. I thought I was shaking out the trauma. But then around 10 AM I begin to vomit.

I was like my husband, just wanting everyone to leave me alone so I could sleep. But when I had a second bout of intense vomiting a few hours later, I called Kaiser and they told me that I was having a drug overdose.   

My body was unaccustomed to narcotics, and it was oblivious as I did not know the sign of overdose. This time we went to advanced urgent care.

I felt forsaken by God. I wondered how he could let something like this to happen to me less than three months after I lost my husband.    

At the same time, I knew that throughout my life, God has brought great healing out of suffering. I asked for and received HeartSync from one of our leaders on Sunday morning, five days after the accident. It can be hard to put into words what we experience during divine encounters. To give you some idea, I realized during this session that my function had a cosmic attachment that was affecting all of me. It was literally in the air we were breathing, but Jesus then began to breathe in the polluted air. When he breathed it out, the dark component simply fell to the ground. I realized that I was deriving much of my identity from my accomplishments and, now that I could not even take care of myself, I was in agony. Not only physically, but spiritually and mentally. 

I began to see that as much as I love to give to others, there was a component of fear in my giving. I always tried to out-give the other believing that I would not be rejected if I gave them more than they gave me. But now that was impossible. It took all I had to simply get through the day. I simply could not do some things with one hand. Or I did them very poorly and sloppily, dropping things, breaking things all over the place and tablecloth when I tried to eat with my left hand.

So, after an initial period of being almost always alone, I’m now having people help me during the day. I’m also becoming much more adept and using my left hand with each passing day.

This week I’ve been deeply blessed as one person after another has come to spend significant parts of each day with me. We have taken walks, some have taken care of Olivia, others have driven me to my doctors — three appointments since the accident occurred. I just need to receive with gratitude.    

The Lord told me that true friendship is not based on me doing things for other people in fear, and that they will not reject me if I don’t give enough. There is give-and-take. The Lord started speaking to me that friendship is not me outgiving the other.

I’ve enjoyed my helpers. I’ve enjoyed our conversations. I love being in touch with people, and I love hearing about what’s going on in their lives.

I have had significant healing that was so valuable, in more than one way. There will also be more to come as the doctor is saying that it could take a year or two for full recovery physically. I believe the worst is over, though I am not looking forward to physical therapy as my hand has already grown stiff and curled.   

I am becoming much more adept at using my left hand, as well as my feet or knee. I’m settling into a new season and I’m back in gratitude with God. But the future still looks a little daunting so I would appreciate your prayers.