It was back in December, one week before Christmas when I struck my left index finger with a hammer, just above the white moon in the base of the nail. I was making a CD shelf for my brother, nailing the back panel in place with small brads when I let my mind wander to where I was going to store this six foot high monstrosity in my tiny house for an entire week. I remember that it hurt as the hammer hit, but there was no blood or bruise, just a lot of hand flapping and a cuss or two before I went on and finished the job.
A couple weeks later I noticed the black mark start to reveal itself as my nail grew out, bit by bit. It must have been hiding under the skin in the nail bed, waiting for the glacially slow river that is my fingernail to ride out. It is only a quarter of an inch long and an eighth of an inch wide. By March 8 it had floated out just past the white moon and almost, but not quite to the middle of my nail. I am surprised that it is taking so long. I thought my nails grew faster than that, judging by how often they seem to need trimming. After all, it has been almost three months since it happened. How long does it take for the marks of pain to leave the body? It is a sort of scar, I suppose, but very interesting so that I wish it would stay there, like some funky tattoo. When anyone would ask after it, I would tell them about the CD shelf I made that cold week in December. They would probably be more impressed by that fact that I, a woman, made a piece of furniture by myself with power tools instead of learning that I smacked myself in the finger with a hammer. A little trophy for my skill and bravery?
I will miss it when it finally grows out to the end of my finger. I will then have to celebrate with a glass of wine and a little chocolate. I think I know how it should be done, fine craftsperson that I am.
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Argh! Sounds like we've all had days like that. I woke this morning with a throbbing ache in my left heel. I had a blister from some slightly too small dress shoes and it must have burst in the night. I have to wear my clogs to work so that nothing touches it. It hurts just sitting out there in the air not moving.
My youngest son came in as I was reading your comment last night. He was crying pretty hard, "Daddy! My fingernail is falling off!" He has one of those black fingernails you spoke of from some injury weeks ago and it had hit that dead stage where if it's bad enough, the nail just sloughs off. He was sort of freaking out about it. No glue pot, but he did get hugs and kisses and that seemed to do the trick.
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