Buzz Kill

I had a surreal experience this weekend when I accidentally took out a chunk of skin by my knee with a chainsaw. It really is not as bad as it sounds, I was extremely lucky and avoided all the tendons, bone, and muscles that are so instrumental to walking and a myriad of other activities. Really it is just a bad ass superficial wound (I think) and in a few weeks I should just have a sweet scar, a good story for parties, and be back up to the same level of activity that I previously was. The sheer horror of the event was not so much in what happened, but what could've happened if the blade had caught me a few centimeters one way or the other.

The rest of this entry will be potentially graphic, so if you are satisfied with the story as it is, please read a different entry, for the GORY details...read on...or for the thrilling conclusion about how this event fits into the grand scheme of the universe, skip down to the last paragraph.

With that out of the way, here is how I now feel fortunate that I was able to "enjoy" this experience to the fullest. I realize that this sounds bizarre, but think about how often you have a fairly seriously wound with minimal repercussions.

First off, I was astounded by how little pain there was. At first I thought it was shock, but the pain just never seemed to arrive. Honestly, this hurt less than a stubbed toe, a sliced finger or a bit tongue. The wound did not ever really express itself using pain as a tool for communication. My best theory on this is that I suppose pain is the body's way of getting one's attention when there is a problem...at this point, my leg had my full attention. They also say that pain is all in the mind and can be overcome, and if this is true I am amazed by the power of the mind to overcome both actual pain or even the expectation of pain.

The next part of this whole experience that was in a strange way worth it, was the ability to look deeper into a part of my body than I ever have before. I have never had that many layers of myself exposed at any point in my life, and I am in no rush to be in that position again, but at the time I really found it fascinating to look at my knee and realize (I mean really know) that all the anatomy you study in school really does apply to you on a personal level. Again, this would've definitely sucked much more if I had done more serious damage, but with the relief that myself and my leg would be fine, I was able to just observe. What I saw was this (click to see pic).

At the ER I watched them cut away the skin they couldn't deal with and then sew up the wound, which at first I avoided looking at, but eventually realized, "When (hopefully never) will I ever be in the position to watch someone cut away a rather sizable portion of my skin and then pass a needle through me to stitch me back up." So I watched enough to quantify this as a complete experience so I would have no regrets afterwards...well, other than regretting that I gouged my leg in the first place.

CONCLUSION

Now I am on the road to recovery and as I look back, I realize that was is most interesting about this experience is that it was nothing like the movies...no screaming, no panic, no blood spurting with each pulse of my heart, no drama at all really. It was so calm I even made a joke with the doctor, asking him if he could play some overly dramatic music as he finished stitching me up. My film professor had a great quote on her bulletin board, "Film tells the truth 24 times a second. Film lies 24 times a second." I always thought I knew what it would be like to get cut this badly, now that it is happened I find that the truth was nothing like I expected it to be. I have always felt that I could live vicariously through film, but the truth of the matter is, you can only really experience what you live through.

Film, television, books, music, stories...they all shape the way we perceive things, and that is their power; to take the things we have not (and may never) experience and still somehow allow us to walk away with the impression that we have been there and we know.

I have waxed the philosophic long enough.

Same to same,

Hendry