Thimble Throbs

December 5 Prompt: Vanish

It started with a very thin, very small peeled skin closely attached to my fingernail. Both innocently cut. Clumsily toyed by my very playful thumb. They both felt betrayed by the system. Just because they belong to the most notorious part of my hand; made known for its obscenity which is obviously not always the case. Perhaps they felt a little bit of injustice and inequality. Left unattended. Ignored. Starved. Broken. Fooled. Judged.

After five days of swelling, I told Sam that I badly needed to go to the doctor to have my middle finger checked. We did some home remedy first since my insurance has already lapsed and my salary has long been forgotten. Cold compress. Hot compress. Apple cedar vinegar. It didn’t work. My middle finger was growing like a giant mushroom everyday. It was sore and numbing. The strain was spreading. So I finally went to the doctor for check up and he suggested that we slice the swelling open to remove the puss and prevent any more infection.

I braved it. Alone. I have to be a grown up about this. “Let’s do this!”

They say the first step is always the hardest. I thought of it as true. I have a low tolerance with pain. And I’m quiet infested with paranoia (blame it on my wild troubled imagination) -which is why the daily doze of morbidity and horror in the flat since the DIY entertainment showcase was installed in our humble kitchen, is significantly adding up to my neurosis. Movies are not exactly of my choice but of the entire household.

Sam said that Romance and comedy in the kitchen are a fiasco because it is something you can watch by yourself. Horror, Gory and Bloody are a hit because you obviously want to share the thrill and the scare and divide it to as many people as possible. Good point.

So I tried to shut all the fragments of horror in my head and focus on how I need to muster the courage to face scalpels. After all, if I want to be a mother soon I would have to drive my fear in reverse; chase my own monsters and scare them like hell. But as expected, although I doubted it for a minute, I felt completely numb during the ten minute procedure. Light shone. Hope sprung. Relief rose. I know the doctor was scraping but I didn’t feel a tiny pinch. Heaven. I was like… Yeah. I’m alright. This is easy. I’m good. Pizza’cake.

But after half an hour when anesthesia was wearing off, I felt my middle finger giving me a middle finger. I found myself under the afternoon heat of the sun waiting for a bus that took like eternity to come, trying to compose myself from whimpering. Holy cow. Mother of all throbs. It was fudging painful. Painful as fudge. Fudge. Fudge. Fudge. And I have no money in my pocket whatsoever to buy me some pain relievers. Fudge my company.

I just have to say. Once and for all. I have new found respect – truly heartfelt respect to all mothers in the world. Whether they gave birth through c-section or normal delivery. Salute.

My sister who majored in pain tolerance was like: “Are you kidding me?” When I facebook message her and I was whining like a kid asking why it was throbbing painfully?!? She had c section and well she kinda burnt her hand accidentally (third degree) and she also fell from the stairs and sprained her ankle recently. So it was kinda stupid to confide with her. She’s badass Harley Quinn.

You know, we can’t really protect ourselves from all these pain. Who would’ve thought that a tiny innocent looking extra flesh would cause me swollen finger with open cut dabbed with Betadine solution and antibacterial cream and wrapped in  thick layers of gauze? How did it get from here?

But then again, from my sister’s very own closing remarks before we said goodnight; at the end of the day, what is important is “At least someone’s there to look after you. I don’t even have that. I am strong because I have to be.” She told me.

So there was Sam, peeling onions and chopping garlic for dinner as he waits for the laundry to finish. Hugs. Kisses. Re-assuring smiles. Sometimes it doesn’t require any words to give enough cure to our pains.

All these and I can feel the painful throbs slow down and fading…

#vanish-ing pain


9 thoughts on “Thimble Throbs

  1. I did really grin about this…..I am sorry for that LOL. I say this because the older I get the wimpier I seem to get. I gave birth to three sons but recently I had a doctor visit where they used a punch to remove two moles so they could biopsy them. They numbed it first so I thought I was fine. Then I felt the blood run down my shin and looked down……I had to lay down so I would not fall off the table. There I lay feeling sweaty, dizzy and stupid. Aaah well, I survived.
    I do feel your pain and I hope you feel better!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much Chicken Grandma & if you can kindly pray for me that will be highly, dearly appreciated. I have another scheduled incision / surgery this afternoon with a real surgeon. Turns out the first did not heal and instead got other surrounding area infected… 😦

      Liked by 1 person

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