Heavenly Beverley : Assault by Deadly Bookshelf

After Vanessa's stupendous loading of Goldie with two additional Kallax shelf units for us and a couple of wire storage units for herself, the flat packs (five) were manhandled inside with the help of the "put-to-work-under-false- pretences" visitors Jan and Ross. They came to Station House for a late afternoon drinkie and ended up being slave labour. They may think twice about dropping in for a vino next time...

Buoyed with confidence after the completion of the Micke desk (with its twenty-seven steps), Michael was quite sure that construction of the Kallax units would be a breeze. And the twin to our existing eight cube unit only caused minor irritation before being proudly put into position.

He and Vanessa then began the task of piecing together the bigger unit - all twenty -five cubes of the largest Kallax item available. Rather like a repetitive three-dimensional jigsaw, the process was lengthy. We halted proceedings for visitors. A couple of glasses of vino persuaded Michael to complete the Final Push.

All was going well until the unit was turned over. A misunderstanding between Michael and Vanessa caused Michael's middle finger to become wedged between the edge of the unit and the floor. Naturally, Michael's reaction was to attempt to wrench his finger out of danger. The end result was not pleasant. Vanessa was distraught.

Initially, I thought Michael's finger had been severed. Then we all quickly realised that the finger tip was still intact, but that there was a substantial crush injury along with a major laceration.

I rang the local hospital. At just after five o'clock, the medical practice's GP was still in town.I drove Michael, in increasing pain, up to the Emergency Department. This is not a large trauma centre. Two beds. Fortunately nobody else was there.

Michael immediately asked for pain relief. This was not forthcoming until the doctor arrived. A jab in Michael's bum and then the true state of his finger was revealed. The good news was that he had not torn off any flesh and his finger could be stitched. The bad news what that his finger was to be stitched.

Michael has a very high pain tolerance but the finger block injections were clearly very painful. All I could do, so inadequately, was to massage his head and remind him to breathe. That was the worst of the procedure. Michael's finger could then be thoroughly washed and examined. Then the actual stitching began.

This was long and slow. The GP was working against time to finish before the local anaesthetic block wore off. With the help of a tourniquet, fifteen stitches were inserted with the numbness still present. The nurses, especially the awesome Sheralee, should be congratulated. Michael's finger was dressed and we gratefully left, armed with a "starter pack" of pain relief and antibiotics.

Cooking dinner was out of the question. We indulged in takeaway fish and chips and several glasses of vino. Michael's pain relief was uppermost on my mind. I dosed him up and retired to our bed.

Yesterday, the defendant was raised into its position with the help of our ever faithful builder, John. Michael was slow to rise, so we didn't return to the hospital for a dressing change until after nine-thirty. He returned to bed for an afternoon kip and then took life very gently as I filled the now hopefully-reformed unit.

Today was spent chasing the scripts for additional antibiotics and pain relief medication. And more unpacking. As of this evening I was astounded that all but a basket of toiletries remained of this job. Given the state of Michael's finger, our couches (currently in the Gallery), our fridge and dining table ( in the residence) will remain unmoved until his hand is significantly on the improve.

Vanessa has been apologetic all day. Actually, I could not have achieved all I did without her help. So we are mutually grateful.

In the persona of Nurse Betty, I redressed Michael's wound after his shower. I would like to promote my skills as second to none. Unfortunately, the result looked like a very large untidy champagne cork on the end of Michael's finger. I hope that Sheralee doesn't laugh too loudly when we visit the hospital in the morning for another dressing change.

I also am praying that the Kallax unit has given away its murderous ways and becomes a law-abiding pillock of society. At present, it appears docile and benign.

We'll keep you posted.