A SLIVER’S TALE

by admin on November 17, 2011

aftermath of a sliver

i’m sure you will recall that esme is one of those people who is quite focused on the body.  this has it’s pro’s and con’s.  on the one hand, she is unlikely to overlook a problem, and she gets unreasonable enjoyment from things such as a new pedicure (she has been known to lie in bed admiring her toes for….hours).  on the other hand, her pain threshold is terribly low and her alarm system is easily triggered.

so it may come as no surprise that esme became completely wrapped up in a sliver. she acquired said sliver from an antique chair that she’s never liked which attacked her as she was moving it aside to do a photo-shoot of one of her outfits.  omg….i have not had a splinter in years!  and this was a big, nasty one!  mr. noir tried to remove it with a tweezer but only managed to grab half.

of course esme let her imagination get the better of her: the remaining splinter would become infected; her finger would swell up like a sausage; a blood infection with antibiotic-resistant bacteria would follow; she’d accidentally be given an antibiotic to which she is allergic; she would end up on life-support ……you get the picture!  she realized that she’d never told anyone she’d like a bench on scenic ave. with her name on it when she dies.  and she’d like to be buried under a weeping willow….or, maybe scattered at sea…….

well, time to walk the dog.  she washed the finger like crazy and slathered on antibiotic lotion. as she was walking along trying not to get her finger entangled in the leash, esme recaptured fond memories of her mother’s expertise in splinter extraction.  esme’s mama would grab a needle, sterilize it by putting the tip in a flame, and neatly excise the splinter.

these days, esme’s mama has acquired an inconvenient little intentional tremor, so even if she had been around, her former skills might have suffered.  esme briefly entertained a fantasy of getting her mother roaring drunk (the tremor goes away with administration of alcohol) and having her poke away with a needle in a state of advanced inebriation.  probably not the best thing for one’s aim.  and esme doubts that her mother has ever been roaring drunk in her entire 83 years!  still, it made for a funny picture.

anyway, even without dire fantasies, a splinter in the major digit of one’s right hand is a royal pain.  mr. noir advised soaking.  esme complied, without a lot of optimism.  would she really have to make an embarrassing trip to the doc-in-a-box just for a splinter?  however, miraculously enough, after the 4th day (well we are approaching channukah), esme was messing with said digit when…..the sliver popped right out!  huzzah!  esme kept gazing at the finger in wonderment.  it looked perfect:  no blood, no swelling, no lasting scar.

as one ages, nothing heals the way it used to.  a little thing can become a big thing.  but…..sometimes one lucks out and a sliver is just a sliver.  you know, i almost miss it!!

in wonderment,

esme

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