Is There a Doctor in the House?

Thursday of last week turned out to be adventurous in a medical kind of way. I was unable to fish having developed a significant migraine headache, one which had left me unable to walk upright, eat, drink, or open my eyes very far. If you have ever had one, or are subject to regular bouts with this nasty condition, you have my sympathy. I get one like this every year or so.  In any case, Jason was off to hunt snook on his own this night.

Later in the evening, much too early for Jason to be finished with his snook fishing, there was the distinctive knock on the door. Teresa had to yell from upstairs to “come on in” as we do to confirm entry for Jason. There is a flight of stairs down to the door, so when the visitor is not Jason, it requires a ramble down the stairs to greet the visitors.  With Jason more family than friend, less formality is required to agree to entry. We have discussed a more elegant solution like a two way intercom like you see on TV shows like Seinfeld to let your pals in, but so far we just yell “come on in” or “entre vu”. I told you sometimes you might hear French words around Jason…

So why would Jason be back from fishing early you ask? Well the first clue came with his first words, “I have a little problem”.  As Jason topped the stairs, it became apparent what that problem was as he held a fishing lure in his hand with one of the treble hooks sticking deep into his finger. Now even though I am half dead with a migraine I am at full attention at the sight. This is one of the things we try to avoid happening when fishing, especially when using one of these “stick baits” with sets of razor sharp treble hooks. When a fish is hooked on one of these, and begins thrashing its head, the hooks become weapons for the fish as they fly around hands, fingers, or anything else that is nearby.  In this case, the hooked monster snook turned her head, releasing the hooks as Jason reached for the fish in the water and the tension on the line shot the lure up and into his hand, driving one of the hooks into his fingertip.

I had seen this type of thing before when I was working with my Grandpa in the arctic at a fish camp. A big wig judge had been out fishing and hooked his daredevil fishing spoon on a chunk of ice flowing in the river.  He bowed his pole over his head pulling the line tight as he had the guide move toward the ice. As he reached to unhook the lure from the ice, it let go and was catapulted into his open hand that was reaching out toward it. The large treble hook was buried deep in his hand. I watched as the experienced guides brought him to shore and performed a gruesome procedure to remove the hook. Without medical facilities, this approach involved improvised medical efforts. First they put his hand in the icy river water until his hand was numb. They then cut the hook away from the rest of the lure with wire cutters. Then they pushed the hook back out of his hand creating an exit wound as pulling the barbed hook back would have created more damage than pushing it out through a new hole. Not pretty.

Based on that experience, and the fact there is no emergency room on the island, it became clear that there were two options that Jason faced. One was to find a late night boat ride over to the mainland, find a ride to an emergency room, and get the hook cut out, and then reverse the process to get back to the island – logistically very challenging and financially very expensive. He had taken this route a couple of times before and was not excited about that approach. Or two, go for the home hook removal approach – risky and untried. By now Jason had bravely cut the other two hooks of the treble hook, and the hook ring holding the hook in his finger. That surely looked painful as each clip of the wire cutters put pressure on the hook in his fingertip.

After a quick Google of “removing a fishing hook from your finger”, Dr. David found a video of a removal approach that was much less traumatic than clipping and pushing the hook through. This one involved using fishing line, holding down the hook eye, and a quick upward snap to pull the hook out – kind of like pulling a tooth.  So with Jason’s agreement for that approach, we began preparations with an ice bath for the finger.  We also had some benzocaine liquid used to treat bee stings and the like to further help numb the area. I got some of my heavy braided line out and cut a section and wrapped it around the hook bend. After some time and reflection, Jason said he was ready. Much trust had just been transferred as he had to put the execution of this maneuver in my hands, with the risk of a painful failure and further damage to his finger.

This risk was not lost on me either, as my adrenaline was high. Now the guy in the Youtube video said not to count (like one, two, three) as the person will flinch and to just unexpectedly snap the hook out.  So as I took Jason’s hand, I just prayed a silent prayer for help, pushed down on the hook eye, and snatched the hook out with a quick pop. As I realized the hook had come out cleanly, I looked into Jason’s surprised face to gauge the results. No screaming was a good sign, just a flash of pain, and then relief as we saw it was out. So some initial blood flow, some antibiotic ointment, and a Band-Aid on the fingertip, the crisis was over without too much lasting damage. I half way expected Jason to return to catch the last of the outgoing tide and catch another snook or two, but he decided to call it a night and get some rest. Wise choice my friend.

David