A Finger in The Borough (aka the Saga of the finger)

So I’ve been talking about how the last few months seem to be just incredibly busy. It’s like there was 4 months of nothing..Dead of winter. And then everything just woke up all at once. Suddenly there are events several times a week, the kids are actually showing up for the volunteer reading program I signed up for and everyone has a project they want help with or want me to work on. The only dark spot in all of this has been the finger. I think I may call it the finger of doom or the cuticle of catastrophe.

Right before my birthday, back In April, I had a hangnail. Now for most people a hangnail is a minor annoyance. I took a small scissor and cut off the offending straggler. Then the swelling started. It seemed like I had a blister or a wart. And I basically ignored it. Through birthday celebrations- cocktails, dinners and general festivities, it just got bigger and bigger.

I was having dinner with someone, the day after my birthday, that I don’t know that well, and we were using chopsticks - it got to a point where I could not hold the chopstick, so I just stopped eating - I just did not want to explain why I needed a fork, after my whole lecture about chopsticks several days before. The friction of trying to use the chopsticks had only inflamed the finger of doom - and it was throbbing. Having drinks the next night with some other hooligans - I noticed that it was blistering - great now it’s the finger of puss and doom. Just what I needed.

By the next day it was purple and my whole hand was swollen, just in time for houseguest #1 to arrive. I quickly ran to pick a new doctor on my new health plan - but to no avail since Friday night is not the night you go searching for a doctor. Luckily, I have a connection, someone who hordes prescription meds like penicillin and amoxicillin - just in case of an infection she keeps stocked on these things. I wrangled out a bottle of penicillin, and the meds helped bring down the swelling - but it continued to feel like I had tiny grains of sand in my cuticle.

I’ve never had so much pain and angst about a finger in my frakkin’ freakin’ life. It’s June now, and it still hasn’t healed completely. I’m sparing you the pictures, only because I never thought to take any, I mean who takes pictures of an infected cuticle? Ew.