I was thumbing through some old magazines and found this amazing story in the May/June 1986 edition of Fine Woodworking.
It Can Happen to You…
Neoma Patterson figured her chances of survival were nil when she saw her left arm—severed by a radial-arm saw—lying on a table in front of her.
But the 56-year-old nurse, alone at home at the time, kept her head and in doing so saved her life…and her arm.
“I knew I was going to die,” said Mrs. Patterson. “I didn’t feel anything when my sleeve got caught, but I looked and there was my arm on the table and blood was spurting everywhere. I said, ‘Please, Lord, help me put my mind in order so I can get help.’”
Mrs. Patterson had taken advantage of an extra day off from her job as a doctor’s nurse to work on a combination greenhouse and birdhouse, which she and her husband are building near their rural home in Parker County. She was cutting 2x4s when an unbuttoned sleeve on her flannel shirt became caught in the saw blade. Her arm was severed just below the elbow.
“I took my shirttail and wrapped my arm in it,” Mrs. Patterson recalled of the Nov. 5 accident. “Blood was flying everywhere, so I took my right index finger and punched it into the artery.”
Cradling her severed arm, she walked about 50 yards to her house. She kicked the telephone receiver to the floor, knelt and released the artery long enough to dial “0.”
Afraid that the operator would refuse to make an emergency call for her, Mrs. Patterson pleaded, “Ma’am, please don’t get tacky with me. I have severed my left arm completely and I’m bleeding to death. I need an ambulance bad.”
“I didn’t hear anything, but silence,” Mrs. Patterson continued. “I thought, ‘Lord, she’s cut me off.’ Then, the sweetest voice I ever heard said, ‘I’ve dispensed the ambulance. It will be there right away.’”
Even then, Mrs. Patterson worried that she wouldn’t survive. She left the telephone to sit on her patio and wait. Death, she said, seemed likely to arrive before help.
“I talked continuously out loud,” Mrs. Patterson said. “I knew if I hushed, I’d die.”
Her voice broke frequently from tears as she recalled the accident. The memory, she said, was more frightening than the reality.
“There was no time to think about it then,” said the mother of two grown children. “Everything had to be in place or I wouldn’t be here today.”
Mrs. Patterson credits “guidance from above” for her life.
Doctors credit her strong will. Her perseverance definitely saved her arm, said Dr. Luiz Toledo, a hand specialist who coordinated the arm reattachment surgery.
“Fortunately, she knew how to take care of it (the injury),” Toledo said. “Things worked out good for her. She’s a very strong person.”
Although her arm isn’t functional yet, surgeons believe it will be. Toledo said Mrs. Patterson should be able to move her hand in about four months and regain feeling in her fingertips in about a year.
Mrs. Patterson has no doubt that she will eventually return to her hobby as a carpenter. She grew up using the radial-arm saw, which belonged to her dad, she said.
“My son says I won’t every use it again. He cut off the controls (after the accident),” she said. “When my left hand works again, I’m sure I’ll use the saw again. But the next time, I won’t be wearing a loose-fitting shirt.”
It Can Happen to You…
Neoma Patterson figured her chances of survival were nil when she saw her left arm—severed by a radial-arm saw—lying on a table in front of her.
But the 56-year-old nurse, alone at home at the time, kept her head and in doing so saved her life…and her arm.
“I knew I was going to die,” said Mrs. Patterson. “I didn’t feel anything when my sleeve got caught, but I looked and there was my arm on the table and blood was spurting everywhere. I said, ‘Please, Lord, help me put my mind in order so I can get help.’”
Mrs. Patterson had taken advantage of an extra day off from her job as a doctor’s nurse to work on a combination greenhouse and birdhouse, which she and her husband are building near their rural home in Parker County. She was cutting 2x4s when an unbuttoned sleeve on her flannel shirt became caught in the saw blade. Her arm was severed just below the elbow.
“I took my shirttail and wrapped my arm in it,” Mrs. Patterson recalled of the Nov. 5 accident. “Blood was flying everywhere, so I took my right index finger and punched it into the artery.”
Cradling her severed arm, she walked about 50 yards to her house. She kicked the telephone receiver to the floor, knelt and released the artery long enough to dial “0.”
Afraid that the operator would refuse to make an emergency call for her, Mrs. Patterson pleaded, “Ma’am, please don’t get tacky with me. I have severed my left arm completely and I’m bleeding to death. I need an ambulance bad.”
“I didn’t hear anything, but silence,” Mrs. Patterson continued. “I thought, ‘Lord, she’s cut me off.’ Then, the sweetest voice I ever heard said, ‘I’ve dispensed the ambulance. It will be there right away.’”
Even then, Mrs. Patterson worried that she wouldn’t survive. She left the telephone to sit on her patio and wait. Death, she said, seemed likely to arrive before help.
“I talked continuously out loud,” Mrs. Patterson said. “I knew if I hushed, I’d die.”
Her voice broke frequently from tears as she recalled the accident. The memory, she said, was more frightening than the reality.
“There was no time to think about it then,” said the mother of two grown children. “Everything had to be in place or I wouldn’t be here today.”
Mrs. Patterson credits “guidance from above” for her life.
Doctors credit her strong will. Her perseverance definitely saved her arm, said Dr. Luiz Toledo, a hand specialist who coordinated the arm reattachment surgery.
“Fortunately, she knew how to take care of it (the injury),” Toledo said. “Things worked out good for her. She’s a very strong person.”
Although her arm isn’t functional yet, surgeons believe it will be. Toledo said Mrs. Patterson should be able to move her hand in about four months and regain feeling in her fingertips in about a year.
Mrs. Patterson has no doubt that she will eventually return to her hobby as a carpenter. She grew up using the radial-arm saw, which belonged to her dad, she said.
“My son says I won’t every use it again. He cut off the controls (after the accident),” she said. “When my left hand works again, I’m sure I’ll use the saw again. But the next time, I won’t be wearing a loose-fitting shirt.”
