is coming back to me now, because I accidentally slammed my middle toe into a piece of furniture and it is huge and deep red and blue and black. My memory is of dropping a very heavy dresser drawer on my big toe when I was ten and rolling around in extreme pain while my toe grew, you guessed it, big and red and blue and black. My very clear recollection is that my uncle offered to come over with a power tool of some kind, I think a drill, and puncture the top of my toe-nail, which, he said, would cause blood to spurt out and instantly relieve the pressure, sweelling, and pain. He said he had done the same thing to himself once and it worked and was safe and no big deal. My mother, who, I want to stress, was not a good but a great parent, said this was my decision but made absolutely no effort to discourage it. I struggled with the idea but ultimately decided against it.
A Muppet Christmas special was on TV.
Did I say ultimately opted against having a hole drilled through my foot? No, I, uh, mean, uh, my uncle actually came over and, uh, it turns out it wasnt a power drill, but, uh, but, a, uh, power sander, and uh, a buffer. So, no, it didn't help the pain, but really brought out the colors.