I went to the outpatient clinic because I was worried an ingrown toenail was getting infected. I have diabetes so I have to be careful with that shit.
That toenail had given me grief on and off for a year or so and I decided to play doctor and really dig in there to relieve the pain.
Duh!
Sometimes that works but this time, not so much.
So I'm sitting there with a numbed up toe and the 50 something doc is slicing and probing for just a few minutes when she says she's done.
She shows me what looks like a 1/8th inch end of a toothpick and takes delight in poking me in the hand with it to show me how sharp it was.
I can't remember ever being so relieved and happy that I finally got it taken care of.
Now, it's almost healed and I feel like sending that kooky doc some flowers!
Did I learn a lesson here?
Only time will tell.