Finger Dream

Last night I dreamed that the top joint of my left index finger was cut off. The details were fuzzy—but I knew the amputation was unintentional. I found my finger standing upright on the kitchen table. Unperturbed, I sealed the finger in saran wrap and placed it in the refrigerator next to baby’s breast milk. The strangely bloodless stump on my hand I secured with a rubber band from the kitchen junk drawer.

Indistinct, unconnected and disturbing events unfolded.  A week passed. Then I mysteriously managed to severe the remainder of my finger.  

At last I became alarmed. Dialing my doctor, I removed the first segment from of the refrigerator to examine it. I was surprised by its freshness. It looked pink and living. I connected the two segments on the counter top as I waited for my doctor to answer my call. My previous unnatural calm returned as I explained my situation, questioning him in particular about being able to re-attach the finger that had spent a week in the cooler.

Brusquely, he advised me to chuck my finger parts. Although I could re-attach both segments successfully, the surgery would probably damage my lungs. I remember mulling over his advice and coming to the conclusion that my lungs were clearly more vital than my vanity.

Yet, as I examined my left hand (which had miraculously healed), I pictured all the people I knew with missing fingers and shuddered. Sinister unbalanced people lacked digits, like my deranged cousin who blew off two fingers playing with gunpowder. On the bright side, I thought, cartoon characters frequently had only four fingers, and no one seemed to notice, so perhaps no one would notice my missing index finger either.

The next several minutes of my dream were a montage of cartoon characters, fingers aesthetically relocating themselves on my hand, and my formerly intact hand. The internal debate between having an intact or amputated finger circled in my brain: guaranteed health and disfigurement or a lovely hand and lung trouble? Just as I decided to forgo the surgery, I woke up.