oops

On Sunday night, I was cleaning my toenails with a toothpick (as you do) and I slipped. I managed to stab myself in the deep meaty spot where the nail, toe and cuticle meat. It caused pain and a small amount of blood.

Yesterday (having forgotten all about it), I headed off to town to get some fruit and veg, meat and bread. I wore ordinary old cloth slip-ons. Nothing tight or evil. By the time I got home (having shed my shoes for the drive) the toe was throbbing and mighty uncomfortable. On examination, it was also hugely swollen and bright bright red.

I gave it a poke (as you do) and it was all oozy.

As the day wore on, it got sorer and sorer and redder and redder and fatter and fatter. By last evening it had become the pounding centre of my existence.

Time for a little home nursing.

Armed with micropore, ZO tape, gauze and magnoplasm, ( courtesy of my strapper's bag)I got to work. I gave it a good clean with hot soap and water, then peroxide (well, as good a clean as I could achieve given the owiness factor). I anointed it liberally with gooey magnoplasm and topped it with gauze. I then wrapped it with paper tape and a skin of ZO to keep the goo in.

It looked ridiculous.

I kept waking during the night every time the doona touched my toe. I ended up sleeping on the spare mattress (with the cat) with my foot sticking out.

The magnoplasm seems to be doing it's work. The toe is markedly less owie now but I shall leave the dressing on for the full 24 hours.

Isn't it crazy how all-consuming these tiny injuries can be? I would much rather cope with a surgical wound or a broken bone than a black nail or a pimple up my nose.

And what is even crazier is that, when I next get the urge to clean my toenails, and there is a toothpick within easy reach, my slothful nature will probably lead me to tempt fate all over again.