Sew Awful

One of the perks of my job is that I have a sewing machine in my office. If I'm facing my desk and I want to get a bit of sewing done, all I have to do is swivel in my wonderful office chair and say the magic word and my office chair turns into a sewing chair and I am seated at my machine.

I haven't done much sewing until Monday, when I began on EJ's Halloween costume. He had gone to the local Renaissance Festival twice this season and wanted his costume to be like the clothes he saw at the Ren Fest. (Honestly, I don't know what he needs a costume for; he certainly isn't going trick-or-treating. But I actually kind of wanted to sew and this seemed like a perfectly legitimate excuse to exercise my sewing muscles).

I got some muslin and a peasant shirt pattern and got to it.

Unfortunately, on Monday, my ring finger on my left hand was in a tetchy mood and picked a fight with the sewing machine needle. The machine chunk-chunk-chunked to a halt and I had to extract my finger from a mess of fabric and machine. I really didn't know what had happened until I saw blood seeping from a hole in my fingernail, and from the top of my finger. Had I seriously just sewed my finger? I've been sewing for 38 years and have never even come close to doing that before. I was more shocked than hurt. I didn't even swear (actually, I don't ever swear--one of my strange habits). Nor did I cry. Nor did I hop around on one foot shouting "ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH" with tears leaking out of eyelids squinched shut like I do when I stub my toe on my metal bedstead. I just stood there thinking, "Did I just sew my finger?"

I looked at the needle and saw only a metal stump. My thoughts then changed to "Where is the rest of the needle? Hopefully not still in my finger."

I wanted to look for the rest of the needle, but figured I'd better stanch the flow of blood. I found some gauze and some medical tape in a bathroom drawer and fashioned a little casing for my fingertip.

Then I went on a needle hunt. Think needle in a haystack, only the haystack is composed of carpet fibers. After ages combing the floor, I found four pieces of needle, including the tip.

My finger broke that needle into FIVE pieces. My finger picked a fight with the machine, and I have to say that I think my finger won. Metal needle: five pieces, finger: small hole (which should heal itself in a few days). Yep, I declare my finger the winner.

I called my sister during the needle hunt, to make sure I was proceeding correctly after a machine/finger altercation because I remembered that she did the same thing a while back. She was a great comfort to me in my time of need. Thanks, Jenni.

No I'm not going to post a picture of it.


Jenni said…
I was going to comment on your poise and character had you posted a picture. It was only afterwards that I thought a picture would have said a thousand words. I am in complete agreement with your statements, though. I was shocked at what I had done, not in pain. I knocked the side of my knee on a file cabinet in class the other day and that caused much more anguish than a sewn finger.
Jen said…
Ouch is all I can say. How in the world did you do that? As much of a hack as I am at sewing, that's something I've yet to do. However, now that I've said it, it will probably happen the next time I sew. I hope you don't get some cotton disease from getting thread in your body (kind of like getting lock jaw from getting cut by metal).
Dennis said…
First Jenni now you. What do your machines have against you. Is this a sewing machine conspiracy? Are the sewing machines of the world trying to take over? Will we all have to change our names to Singer, Bernina or Pfaff (or whatever it is named)?