Page 7 - Nutshell 4
P. 7

All Thumbs

          When  their  son’s  impatience  to  be  born  became unbearable,  Mr.
        Tennyson rushed his wife to the hospital in the middle of the night.
        An  hour  later  Mrs.  Tennyson,  with  her  husband  at  her  side,  was
        presented with her baby, already named Thomas.
          Tommy  smiled  at  the  world.  His  parents  smiled  back.  But  the
        obstetrician and nurses did not smile.
          “Your baby is perfectly healthy,” began the doctor, a woman who
        had seen many strange things in her career. “Except for one thing.”
        She unwrapped the swaddling enough to free the newborn’s arms.
          “What—what is it?” cried Tommy’s mother. “What’s wrong with
        him?  He  is  happy  to  be  here.  His  head  and  shoulders  look  okay.
        And—oh, oh! His hands!”
          Tommy’s father, who was near-sighted, looked closer.
          “He has no fingers! Just thumbs! Ten little thumbs!”
          The doctor gave Tommy to his mother to hold.  “I’m sorry. This
        did  not  show  up  on  any  of  the  ultrasound  scans.  His  hands  were
        clenched in fists.”
          “It doesn’t matter!” Mrs. Tennyson sat up in bed, clutching Tommy
        to her bosom. “We love him!” Tommy gurgled happily, already aware
        he was the center of attention and apparently enjoying it.
          “Yes,” said Mr. Tennyson, looking defiantly at the doctor. “We are
        going to keep him and give him as normal a life as possible. But what
        can be done? Is there a surgery?”
          “If you are willing to try something experimental, I can refer you to
        Dr. Manus. Otherwise…I have no suggestions.”
          “Yes!” cried the Tennysons in unison. “We want his advice.”
          Two  weeks  later  the  Tennysons  took  Tommy  to  the  university
        medical  research  center.  After  making  many  wrong  turns  in  the
        labyrinthine  hallways,  they  found  the  office  of  Dr.  Manus.  The
        doctor was a surprisingly young man in jeans and a sweatshirt. He
        examined Tommy’s tiny hands and nodded.
          “Yes,”  he  said.  “A  clear  case  of  natus  decem  polices.  A  defect—or
        mutation,  if  you  prefer—in  gene AZ23p-12.  Your  obstetrician  was
        right to send you here. Let me explain. This is one of the rarest of the
        genetic disorders affecting  the  hand. Others are polydactyly—more
        than four fingers per hand, syndactyly—fingers fused together, and
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