'cause these photos are terrible to behold--
Oh, you've guessed right. These are photos of my pitiable mother's injured hand. She is responsible for cleaning this wretched contraption daily and, after 10 days of this, she still hasn't gotten comfortable with the process (and who could blame her, really!). She turns enormously pale as she is engaged in cleaning the wounds. It is simple to discern that she dreads the prospect. Most of the day, she keeps a gauze-like covering on the cage, so that she doesn't have to look at it any longer than absolutely necessary.
In addition, Mom is in such incredible pain that she cries fairly regularly over this injury. (Keep in mind, my mother has such a high pain tolerance that when she fractured her wrist in two places, she didn't even go to the hospital until the next day!) And to add insult to injury, she can't sleep properly, as a result of the fear that she might accidently roll over the thing and rip a finger off or something of that nature.
Mom is slated to have the cage in place for another four weeks approximately. She recently returned to the doctor for an adjustment and took a bit of solace in an amputee's plight, who was also scheduled for an appointment that day (I believe her thinking was along the lines of, "at least I still HAVE my fingers--rotten and mutilated as they may be..."). The patient in question had apparently severed multiple fingers in a saw-related accident. I shamelessly asked her, "So, are you saying that he fought the saw and the saw won?" At least that got a little giggle out of her.
Poor poor Mommason.