So, last Friday, I was pre-drilling some holes for deck screws for my bench-work. Rather than walk five feet to get the wisk-broom to deal with the dust, I used my hand. Yup, you guessed it, I got a splinter in my finger. I pulled it out, but I didn’t get it all. Over the weekend, The digit swelled up, got red, and the remnant splinter resisted all my attempts to remove it.
Yesterday, I finally admitted defeat, and went to see my quack, after getting a bit of pus out of the hole. Yes, I said, hole!
Well, he shoved what looked like a pipe into my finger, to inject some numbing medicine. Hurt like hell! Query, why does numbing medicine hurt like hell on the way in?
After stirring around in that hole for a bit, he latched onto a half inch splinter. A HALF INCH!!! And all because I was too lazy to walk five feet to get the wisk-broom.
I lost three days working on my railroad because of this. My Daddy did teach me better, I swear. I wish I had listened.
Oh, yeah, the finger shows signs of healing. I’ll be back out there, today, with my wisk-broom.