last night, the boys wanted bacon, cheese and tomato on a crusty baguette for dinner—meaning they wanted bite-sized bits of bacon and cheese, hold the tomato, next to torn pieces of bread.
as i was tearing the bread, pictured above, a sharp shard of the delicious crust forced its way up under my thumbnail. omg. omg. omg. it hurt so badly. i slowly pulled at the bread but it broke, leaving a painful reminder between my nail and nailbed.
all night it hurt. my nail turned a purply black in a tiny spot where that bread was hiding. the pain was so intense it made me see stars and left me close to throwing up many times. it was so small. how could it hurt so big??
today was no better. i took a lunch hour and drove myself over to one of those minor emergency clinics. i felt extra super cool explaining what had happened. “bread?” the doctor asked. “yes, bread.” i said. “BREAD!”
i have to tell you at that point if he had said the only way to help me was to amputate my thumb i would have told him to go right ahead. but he didn’t say that. he said—and this is the part where you should stop reading if you are at all squeamish—that he would numb my thumb, lift up the nail, pop the blood blister and irrigate until the bread came out. he was hopeful he wouldn’t have to cut my nail, but that could be a possibility.
sign me right up.
when all was said and numb, he began lifting. i did not watch. my squeamishness made me talk. a lot. i joked that at least he’d have a good story from today and he said he actually was meeting friends for dinner—and he couldn’t wait to tell them about this one.
“if they set down a bread basket, tell them all to be careful,” i said.
we had funny banter back and forth while he worked and then he yelled, “whooooaaahh. there’s a sandwich in here!” i’ve never told a doctor to shut up before, but i did then. it just slipped out. and then so did the bread. the doctor did not have to cut my nail.
i’m now left with a numb thumb and a band-aid—and a different kind of pain, one that i can handle (like an ache). i will not be taking the band-aid off anytime soon. thank you, dr. rodon, i am truly grateful. and to the rest of you still reading—beware the baguette.