Nightly Adventure

21 June 2008, early morning

Just when we thought that life was getting rather boring…

At four o’clock this morning I was woken up by the sound of the rubbish collectors’ van emptying the skips: it was a rattling noise, like lots of glass bottles tumbling down. I turned over, trying to block it out of my ears; then I heard water running in the bathroom. In a couple of minutes Athena stood over my bed, in tears. “Mummy, my ring is stuck on my finger and it’s stopping the blood.”
“Try using soap,” I mumbled, half asleep.
“I have; it won’t come out,” she whined.
I sat up and reached for my handcream, which didn’t work either. Athena made a lot of noise, moaning, saying that her finger felt numb, it was going to explode, she was dying..the usual drama queen stuff.
We went to the kitchen and squirted washing liquid on her finger. I tried easing the ring out, but the pleat of flesh over the knuckle was swollen. Things were complicated more because the ring was wide like a wedding band.
I reasoned that if we used hot water, the ring would expand. The unsuccessful experiment proved that so would the finger. How about using oil? That might help the ring slip out. But Athena’s fussing and fretting didn’t let me think.
As I was struggling to pull the ring out, we heard the call to the morning prayer: it was 4.08 am. Hossein got out of bed and offered his morning prayers, then sat down in front of Athena to work with the washing liquid. He massaged the finger for a few minutes and managed to push the ring almost over the knuckle. If somebody heard Athena’s cries, they would think we were torturing her. She screamed and shouted, and pulled her finger away. The ring slipped back.
I suggested we ring the emergency services. The hospital nearby said that we could take her there so that they have a look, but our best bet would be to take her to a jeweller’s in the morning to have the ring cut.
I thought that if hot water didn’t work, cold water might. I filled a bowl of cold water and put it on a chair by her bed. By that time Yusef was awake too.
“Why didn’t you get up then?” I asked him.
“I thought she felt sick but couldn’t and was trying to.” Yusef, just like me, has got a thing about seeing people get sick.
“So you thought you’d lie low, eh?” I joked. He pulled the sheet over his face, probably smiling.
Hossein came into the room. “Does the fire brigade deal with that sort of thing?”
I thought of cats high up on trees and a nervous laughter came all over me; but it might work. Hossein got on the phone again and thankfully, in a few minutes all four of us were in the local Fire Brigade Station.
The young man there thought this was a piece of cake. He brought his First Aid kit over and took out a contraption that slides under a ring; a lever on top of it is turned, cutting the ring through. He struggled with this for a few minutes but he only managed a minute chip at the edge of the ring.
“What metal is this, lady?” he asked me.
“Titanium, I think.” A metal that up to now I had not given much thought to. As hard as steel. Why do they make jewellery out of this? Good for handcuffs, I bet.
The young man went out and called his superior, a surly man in his fifties with a paunch and two chunky agate rings on his right hand.
“Don’t worry, sister,” he told Athena. “We’ll have it out in no time.” He brought a thin metal file and a circular saw. Athena looked at me terrified.
“It’s OK, don’t worry,” the man reassured her. He sent the younger officer out, who returned with a plastic pail and a washing liquid bottle filled with water. Then they set to work: he slid the metal file under the ring, squashing Athena’s finger even more. The saw struggled to cut the metal, firing sparks in all directions. The young man kept pouring water over Athena’s finger to prevent it from burning. Once or twice Athena pulled her hand away, but was told to sit still. I’ve got to hand it to her, she is impeccable in front of strangers.
Eventually a deep ridge was cut in the ring but the innermost part, near the finger, was still joined. The officer put the saw away and pulled at the sides of the ring with two pincers; after a lot of effort he managed to ease the ring apart, enough for the finger to be freed.
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
Athena’s finger got two long blisters, which have now dried and turned into dark red lines, a memento of an unpleasant experience that will, like many memories, turn to a story in the years to come.