This is George

This is George.

George is Curious.

In fact, I can honestly say that George is as curious as the famous monkey who shares his name.  And  if George is anything more than he is curious, he is oblivious.  George ranks right up there with the most curious children I've ever known, but in obliviousness, well, he just leaves everyone else in his dust.  Over the years, we've often referred to him as "Oblivious George".  Sometimes I try to imagine George as a grown man.  What will he be like?  What will he look like?  What will he do?  How will he introduce himself....  "George. (extending his hand for a shake)  Oblivious George."  Of course, I imagine him wearing a tux and looking very debonair.

George was born curious and oblivious and with six fingers on one hand.  Well, sort of.  He had a little accessory finger on his left hand.  We sometimes called him the six-fingered-man.  It was kind of cool.  No one else in the family had six fingers on one hand.

As George grew, his teensy extra finger grew a teensy bit also.  We always knew we'd have it removed someday, but there was no hurry.  Once we took him to a surgeon for a sixth-finger-removal-consult.  But because of his young age, the surgeon would only remove it if George was given general anesthesia and completely sedated.  My husband, also known as George's dad, also known as a doctor, wasn't comfortable with that.  He didn't think the anesthesia risks were worth getting the little extra finger removed.  So we waited.

Years later, the little finger started bothering George.  Sometimes it bothered him that other kids started noticing it and asking about it.  But mostly it bothered him because he started catching it on things like rough, fuzzy fabric.  Eekie Moo Koo!  The thought of that got me in the hiney.

So, we decided it was time.  Time to remove the little teensy finger.  Come to think of it, I'm really surprised the finger hadn't acquired a name of its own.  Our family names just about everything.  But we'll just call it The Little Teensy Finger.  So Daddy Doctor told George that he'd take care of it sometime soon... when he wasn't working ... and it was a good time ... and supper wasn't almost ready ...  and he had slept the night before ...

George then took it upon himself to remind his dad every time he saw him.  Now George is not a terribly expressive child.  He usually speaks using as few facial muscles as possible and in a monotone.  And this is how it went ...

"Daddy, can you cut off my finger today?"
"I can't today George, I'm about to go to work."

"Daddy can you cut off my finger today?"  (Yes, this is really what he said.)
"Not right now, George, we're grocery shopping."

"Daddy, can you cut off my finger today?"
"Not right now, George, you're already in bed."

"Daddy, can you cut off my finger today?"
"Not today, George, it Christmas morning."

Well, you see how it went.

Finally, the time came.  All the stars aligned.  George was excited.  He was feeling pretty special.  He got to go to the emergency room with Daddy and it was all about him.  Dad was finally going to cut off his finger!

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If you are shorter than 48 inches tall,
or If you get queasy and faint at the sight of blood or the potential sight of blood,
Consult your physician before continuing to read this post.

And this is how it all came down ...

The three of us went to the ER, aka Daddy's Work.  George got settled in quite nicely.  He was feeling big.  He was feeling important.  He was feeling brave.  He was George.  Big Important Brave George.

First step, Betadine, to disinfect.

Next, Doctor Daddy injects Lidocaine all around The Little Teensy Finger to numb it.  This stings a little but George did great.  He barely flinched.

The hand starts to puff up as the Lidocaine is injected.

Then we wait a while for the Lidocaine to do its thing.  We want to make sure the area is completely numb!

Ok.  All numb.  Ready?

SNIP!

Yep.  Just like that.

And just like that, The Six-Fingered-Man becomes just like the rest of us mortals.

At this point, it looked great to me but it actually needed some extra cleaning up.  A little more snipping was required to make sure it looked perfect after it healed.

Yes.  That's what you think it is.  Yes, we homeschool.  No, we didn't save it in Formaldehyde for a future science lesson.  Yes, it did cross my mind, but I only entertained the thought for a mili-second.

George was very brave and watched the whole thing.  He had total confidence in his super-hero dad.

All cleaned up and ready to stitch.

George did feel a little pull when his dad was sewing.  It was his only moment of weakness.

He recovered quickly.

Two stitches and we're all done.

The discard pile.

Beautiful!

And here he is.  George.  Not so oblivious.  But oh so brave.  Ready to go home and show off his newly improved hand.  A little less unique maybe, but very proud and happy.