It's strange, sometimes, how fiction eerily echoes our lives. I finished The Universe ... while sitting in an ER, waiting to be seen, and I read this passage: "X-rays revealed a clean fracture in his left little finger, which had to be bandaged and splinted to his little finger. He also required about a dozen stitches for his head wound."
For me, it was the right little finger and staples instead of stitches, but the parallel sent a chill down my spine.