I called my mom and found out my baby brother was in the hospital.
He had suffered a work related injury that crushed and partially severed his right index finger around 8am.
He was transfered to another hospital that had a hand specialist in the hopes that his finger could be saved.
Apparently hand specialists are in short supply because he didn't go into surgery til around 6pm.
He was in surgery for three hours but in the end they could not save/reattach the finger because it was so damaged.
Now, everyone I know that has died, did it in a hospital.
I don't like them for this reason.
Necessary evil, in my opinion.
Irrational yes I admit it.
You can not change my mind.
Anyway, you can not imagine the dread that consumed me until I heard my baby brother was ok.
Now I just have to worry about infection in the bone.
And I will.
I won't dwell on it.
But I will wonder.
And I will grieve with my baby brother as he grieves.
Because he will.
Even losing something so small as a finger will haunt him the rest of his days.
He will feel its loss every time he holds a pencil and brushes his teeth.
His budding artistic endeavors will be forever changed.
Oh, Baby Brother, I wish you did not have to feel this pain,
Feel the the ache that throbs in that empty space.
You will recover.
You will learn to live and work around it.
Eventually days will go by without you giving
your lost finger a thought.
Some days you will remember.
It is ok to grieve.
It is not silly.
It was not just a silly finger.
I love you Baby Brother.