I had an experience this week that I don't care to repeat. I accidentally put my grandmother's wedding band on the wrong finger. I don't know why. I wasn't thinking I guess. It went on just fine, so I didn't think anything of it...until a few hours later when I absentmindedly began twisting the ring on my finger, only to discover it was fairly snug. I then realized what I'd done and tried to take it off. It wouldn't budge. I tried and tried and tried to no avail. We were out to eat at the time. I went to the ladies' room so that I could get some soap on my finger to work the ring free. It didn't budge. I kept trying harder and harder but the only thing that happened was an increasingly sore finger that was swelling up rapidly. Nothing I did made a difference. In fact, it just made the problem worse.
I was mad at myself for moving the ring in the first place. If I hadn't have done that, I wouldn't have found myself in this predicament. If only... The "if onlies" were getting to me. And I was getting frustrated and more upset about the whole situation.
Fast forward less than 24 hours, an we found ourselves sitting in the ER with Peyton. She had another "episode" yesterday morning where she had extreme difficulty breathing and was changing color as she struggled for breath. She recovered at home, but we took her to the hospital anyway. As we sat in the room, I could tell my finger was getting worse. The longer I sat there and was bothered by my finger, the more I realized that the only way out of this predicament was to have the ring cut off. I desperately wanted to avoid this. This ring was my grandmother's and I got it after my mother passed away. I felt like I was so stupid and that this was somehow me failing them in some way. I couldn't help but feel how disappointed they would be in me. Not to mention the fact that this was all happening at a time when I am really missing my mom. A lot.
A nurse came in the room at one point as we were waiting and she asked if she could do anything for us. I said, yes, but it didn't have anything to do with Peyton. I asked if they had a ring cutter. They did. I took the above picture as I waited on the nurse to return. I will say that as swollen as that looks, that is not the worst it was through this whole ordeal, but it was fast returning to that state. As I waited, I opened the flashlight app on my iPhone and struggled to see the underside of the ring. You see, the ring is engraved on the inside and I wanted no part in destroying that! I was finally able to get a visual on the engraving and I made a mental note of where the ring could be cut. The nurse returned. She double checked with me that I'd tried alternative methods to remove the ring. Trust me...we tried several methods. It wasn't happening. She made sure I knew that once it was cut, that was it. Yes, I was well aware. Fortunately, I have a friend who works in a local jewelry store and I have already consulted with her through facebook about the repair of the ring. We found the spot for the nurse to cut. I turned my head. I wasn't scared of what was happening. It wasn't going to hurt. I just couldn't watch my grandmother's ring being cut.