Yesterday I was sweeping the bathroom with the broom dad uses in the winter to bare our icy steps, thus the broom held the potential to deliver mini missles straight into the fleshy bit between my thumb and forefinger. And yes, it did so with a vengence. After failing to tweezer the bugger out, squeeze, and then prod at it with a needle, I decided to try a remedy of baking soda and water over night. The huge bandage I wore to work made counting change difficult. The bandage did nothing!
So this morning I awoke with a swollen, red, and infected hand. I putted around a bit before giving in to the inevitible pain. It took about 20 minutes with me desperately fighting off the desire to call my friends’ mothers, but I got it out. Three millimeters of pain! So much infection!
Now I have a purple medicated bandaid over the spot. Everytime I use my thumb for anything, I squeeze the infected area and my hand protests with a sting. It’s like being slapped across the hand. Except from the inside.
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