“Hi Alex, it’s Terrie.  I was wondering if Drew and you have a day next week that you guys could come over and do some work for me.  We have a few of these brown weeds in our horse pasture and I would really like them cut down before we get the hay mowed.”  It was a normal hot Michigan summer when I got the text from my old neighbor asking if my brother Drew and I would like some work for the next week.  I asked Drew and we figured we didn’t have anything else to do so we would go make a few bucks.  When we arrived we figured out fast that we had a long day ahead of us. While standing at the edge of the large green hay field filled with hundreds of brown weeds Drew said “A few!  they’re hundreds of them.  We told mom we would meet her at the lake after work.  This is going to take all day.” We were each given a rusty old pair of garden scissors and we began cutting.

We worked for over four hours before we finished the first field. The cool morning sun had matured into the hot humid afternoon sun by this time.  While moving fields I said to Drew “I am whooped.  My back hurts from bending over so much and I have blood blisters on my hands from the stupid clippers.” and Drew said “I know me too!”  Not ten minutes after moving fields I was thinking about cooling off in the lake. My white Hanes shirt was by this time dripping in sweat.  My camo Ford hat was saturated in sweat from my forehead as I attempted to keep the sweat out of my eyes.  The smell of B.O. coming from me was so strong that I wanted nothing more than to go jump in the cold lake with a bar of soap when all of a sudden I looked down and saw a drop of blood on my boot.  I stopped what I was doing and started looking myself over.  I checked my nose and my arms when I noticed that the middle finger on my left glove was cut and the glove finger looked a little discolored.  I yelled across the hayfield dancing with the slight afternoon breeze, “Drew I need you now I cut myself and it’s bleeding.”  Drew stopped what he was doing and casually walked over to me.  When he finally arrived my gray glove was now a distinct red color.  He said “What did you do?”  I responded “I don’t know. I’m going to take my glove off and look at it.”  As I did my heart dropped.  My whole hand was covered in blood and the tip of my finger was dangling from the rest of my hand.  I yelled “Drew take my phone out of my pocket call mom and tell her to come home now! Then go tell Terrie we are done for the day and I will call him later.  Then meet me by the fourwheeler and drive me home.” As drew ran off I took of my sweat stained smelly white shirt and wrapped it around my hand and waited for drew to return to the four wheeler.  Sitting there I remember thinking to myself “ I’m going to lose the tip of my finger, and mom is going to be pissed that I  made her leave the lake.” After what seemed like forever drew returned and drove me home as I sat on the back of the fourwheeler with my hand over my head.

We were pulling in the driveway at the same time my mom was.  She was still in her swimsuit and said “What the hell did you do?”  I responder “I will explain later just drive me to the Emergency room.  I’m definitely going to need stitches.”  All the way there I just sat in the passenger seat explaining what had gone wrong and apologizing for ruining her afternoon.  When we finally arrived at the E.R. my once white shirt was now red.  As I got out of the car the cold leather seats were stuck to my sweaty bareback. The nurse at the front desk saw my cut finger and I saw a doctor right away.

The doctor put seven stitches in my finger and sent me home with instructions to take it easy for a week or two.  Me being a guy not only went to work the next day where i shingled a roof, but I also threw 500 bail of hay.  I had work to do and a few stitches wasn’t going to slow me down.  Through this event I learned the importance of having your mind in the right place while working, because if you don’t you will end up getting hurt.  I also realized that you can’t let a small setback ruin your week.  You just have to work a little harder to make up for your mistake.   I believe that this lesson I learned is an important life skill that will continue with me for years to come as will my scar on my finger.