...experienced this, until this week.
This thing I did: It hurt.
What was this thing?
I got a splinter under my thumbnail.
I don't know when or how, but it was there.
And did I mention it hurt?
And I couldn't get it out.
The constant pain kinda made me grouchy for a day.
And then it got infected.
And I could see (gross alert) pus growing in a pool beneath my nail.
Then the pressure and throbbing woke me up at night. (!?)
So I cut and peeled back my nail for almost an hour of whimpering and loud intaking of breath.
I cut it much shorter than any nail should be. The fingernail doesn't even give at all to allow clippers down and under in that middle zone, did you know? You have to pry it up with a needle or other thin (sterilised) object.
And that hurts too.
And it bleeds when you remove so much.
And it takes a long time to do precise, fine work on your right hand with your not-preferred hand.
But I got that blinkin' thing.
And the pressure went away.
But my marshmallowey tender undernail flesh was seriously angry to be naked and exposed.
I slapped Bepanthen on it and popped two anti-inflammatories for good measure.
And then I could sleep.
Within 24 hours, I had my opposable digit back.
And it matters, guys. Thumbs matter.
Especially on your preferred hand.
Highlights from the two days preceding Self-surgery by Night:
First attempt at sympathy:
Haki: You're in a weird mood.
Me: Well, I do have this thing going on with my thumb.
Second attempt at sympathy (a long distance call):
Me: I got a splinter under my fingernail.
Erika (my sister): (Sincerely and with passion) Oh no!
And I am telling you because I still remember when you got one. I
remember you carving it out. I remember you saying, "I don't think
anyone understands how traumatic this has been!" And I made a mental note
that you were making a fuss and you don't usually do that. And now I get it.
Erika: It hurts.
Me: So bad.
Erika: I'm sorry.
Me: It is in my thumb.
Erika: Oh no! You use the thumb for everything.
Me: I know. And it's my right hand.
Erika: I'm so sorry, Angela.
Petrol station cashier dude: Oh, did you jam your thumb?
Me: I got a splinter under my nail.
Petrol station cashier dude: That's the worst! I had a spaghetti noodle go up under my nail really deep and snap in there. It hurt so bad!
Me: So bad. (but thinking: "A noodle? C'mon, buddy -- the pain I'm experiencing, I think there's more than pasta in there. You're talking hard wheat. My splinter is most likely made of adamantium.")
Fourteenthish attempt at sympathy, from Haki:
Haki: How did your game go?
Me: It was close, but we lost.
Me: And my thumb is okay. Thanks for asking.
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