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In a flash, a 5-year-old's finger hangs in the balance

Elizabeth Flores, Star Tribune

Sue Krumrey teared up as she recalled how her 5-year-old son got his hand caught and mangled in a meat grinder. Krumrey waited for hours Friday at Hennepin County Medical Center as surgeons performed reconstructive surgery.

By CURT BROWN, Star Tribune

Last update: February 15, 2008 - 11:09 PM

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FUND ESTABLISHED

A special fund has been created to help the Krumrey family pay for the expenses of Austin's leukemia treatments and Wyatt's hand reconstruction: Krumrey Family Benefit Account, CenBank, P.O. Box 188, Buffalo Lake, MN, 55314.

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Sue Krumrey had funneled the first of three tubs of beef trimmings into a whirring, motorized grinder. She reached behind her to grab the second tub.

The family had run out of hamburger. And butchering meat has long been a tradition at her family's farms near Hector, Minn.

Five-year-old Wyatt had tagged along Tuesday evening as his mother headed out to the converted milking parlor at her in-laws' farm, 80 miles west of Minneapolis, where they do the slaughtering. That was nothing unusual either.

"It was a split second," Krumrey said. "I turned to grab the next tub of meat, and his hand was in the grinder."

Wyatt screamed. His mother unplugged the grinder and ran to call 911.

Her husband, Brian, ran in and began unscrewing parts of the grinder to free his son's mangled right hand. They wrapped the bloody hand in towels, the index finger dangling.

Help was briefly delayed because Sue's 911 call was first routed to a neighboring county. The family took Wyatt, met the ambulance on a rural road and zoomed toward the Twin Cities.

On Friday, two surgeons at Hennepin County Medical Center spent almost 12 hours reconnecting tendons, blood vessels and nerves, and setting fractured bones.

In the waiting room, Sue cross-stitched, fought back tears and second-guessed what had been a normal day on the farm.

"The waiting process is so nerve-racking and anxious, but they called to say things are going well," she said.

About 10:15 p.m. Friday, Wyatt was wheeled into intensive care. There was no immediate word on the success of the surgery. Doctors had been worried about the nerves in his index finger, which was cut in two places, and whether proper blood flow could be restored.

Asked what will she do upon seeing her son, his mother said simply: "I'm going to cry."

"It's been an exhausting day," she said about 8 p.m. Friday.

At first, doctors braced the family for amputation of Wyatt's index finger. They flushed the area in a preliminary procedure Tuesday night aimed at sterilizing the damaged hand. With medicine commonly used for burn victims, they flooded the wound with fresh blood.

Through it all, Wyatt has remained upbeat. On Wednesday he was manipulating an Etch-a-Sketch with his left and less dominant hand in the hospital play room. Sue says he has boundless energy and loves fishing, monster trucks, his own little four-wheeler and feeding animals.

Wyatt's age and resilience have helped. He kept fretting that "this thumb would fall off," Sue said, but the little pointer finger was in the most jeopardy.

"It happened so fast, there was nothing we could do," she said.

She hasn't asked Wyatt yet why he put his hand in the grinder. "He's grown up knowing you keep your hands away from stuff," she said. "I haven't asked, because it doesn't even matter. It wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to bring the hand back."

Trauma, sadly, is nothing new for the Krumreys. Five years ago, they endured a house fire, the death of Sue's father from cancer and a brain aneurysm for her mother-in-law.

Last summer, 15-year-old Austin -- Wyatt's older brother and the first of Sue's three sons -- was diagnosed with leukemia. He just finished six months at Children's Hospital of Minneapolis and five grueling rounds of chemotherapy.

"Why? Why?" Sue asked. "I know God does things for a reason, but I probably won't have the answer until I get to the Pearly Gates."

Curt Brown • 612-673-4767