Mom had minor surgery today on her baby finger.  When the orthopedic surgeon put the replacement joint in her baby finger, 5 years ago, he had already fused the joint.  Mom could never understand why he did this but so be it.  After living with this misplaced joint, she discovered writing was more difficult because the joint rubbed, was a nuisance and with repeated use, hurt. Also with this rubbing, the joint area turned black.
Mom will tell you what happened in her own words…take it away mom
Thanks Kali.

I went to the hospital a little earlier than our appointment and the doctor took me early. Let me tell you about this procedure while it’s still fresh in my mind.  I went into this room called Minor Surgery #2.  The nurse asked my address, phone # and
where I lived…just to make sure I had all my marbles before the procedure started, I guess.  I managed to get all the answers right, so we carried on.  Dr P came in and explained….very roughly, what he was going to do to my finger.  It sounded ghastly so I tuned him out, and only caught the odd word.  Humming *California Dreamin’* in my head, I got on the table with a bit of assistance from the nurse.  Delighted my  own bed was so much more comfy.  I didn’t like lying flat, so had them adjust my bed.  I must admit my tummy sure disappeared though.  Once a bit more comfortable we carried on.  My hand was cleaned with some antiseptic stuff that ran down my arm and was freezing cold.  I mentioned that antiseptic was running down my arm and the Dr. said they’d get it….they forgot all about it.  Onward….we went with three huge needles to my finger area.  One shot between the ring and baby finger, right at the web part.  The next shot was on the finger near the joint.  The final shot was on the side of my palm.   These areas are tender as a baby’s butt.  The final touch was the tourniquet on my upper arm.  The tourniquet was so very tight, it was a hurtin’ something fierce.  Perhaps this was to take my attention away from the finger.  A bloodless operation.  I liked the sound of that.  I was told the tourniquet was just for a *few minutes*. The doctor worked, the nurse restocked the bandage cabinet and I lay on the steel bed counting the dents in the ceiling.  The next thing that happened was the Dr. asking for an instrument from the nurse who seemed to have left.  The doctor was getting agitated and ended up shouting for her in the corridor.  I swear only in Prince George would this happen. Shortly, the nurse came rushing in the room after telling us she took some garbage to the trash room.  I hope she washed her hands.  I got back to counting the multitude of dents in the ceiling as all was in order once again.  Dr P declared he was putting the stitches in and then I’d be free to go.  My, I deserved a fun food for going through this crap.  But what, chocolate covered raisins, chocolate bark( big slab of chocolate) or pumpkin cookies.  Decisions, decisions! Dr, P finished up and the very last thing the nurse did was to loosen the tourniquet.  My hand was red, red….not like a beet but a close runner-up.  Eek…no feeling either.                                                                      Woohoo…I was out of the surgery room by noon PDT.It wasn’t fun but it’s done except for the stitches coming out. I got a prescription for t’3’s as these are my preferred pain killers Yes, I’ve delved into the world of pain-killers and have favourites.                                                                          After a trip to the grocery store for a few goodies, mom was home.  She looked fine especially for one of the walking wounded.  Time to take us for a walk and stroll….off we went up the Lane.

KALI…..ORANGE
MOM……WINE
SHOKO…..BLACK

May your paws carry you to tasty nip.