You never know what you have--until it's gone

Before you being to read this--I want everyone to look at thier pinky toe and thier little pinky toenail. This entry is of my pinky toenail and the day I lost it.

I was in Lodi, CA visiting my Woodward before I had to begin work the next week. We had a couple of fun days hanging out in Lodi getting hit on by older men who bought us drinks, dressing up in 80's garb (crimpped hair included), and cruising the streets of Lodi in the Celica rocking out to the Police. It was good times.

On Wednesday evening she and I were watching "Dancing with the Stars". We started to make our ridiculous commentary as if we knew what we were talking about. During a commercial break I got up and ran towards the kitchen to get a Butterscotch Yummy treat provided by my Woodward's mom.

I failed to notice the brick fireplace to my left and scraped my pinky toe against the brick on the floor. I immediately screamed a profane word or severel of them and sat down in the chair closest to me clutching my little pinky toe. I turned to my Woodward saying that I think I broke my toe. I removed my hand from the toe to reveal lots of lots of blood. My Woodward soon took action and got me a band-aid as I hobbled into the kitchen to clean my toe with some water and a paper towel to apply pressure to my wound.

When I removed me hand I noticed that my nail and the first few layers of my epidermis had been ripped off and was hanging on to my toe by a small thread of skin. I knew what I had to do. Rip off the bit of skin with my toe-nail attached to it. I told this to my Woodward. She had to remove herself from the room while I did it. She couldn't take the idea of taking off a toe nail. It still brings her shivers.

I put a band-aid on it and spent the next three weeks in pain each time I took a step hobbling to and fro. It was touch and go there for the first few weeks because I was afraid of infection and of losing my entire toe, not just the pinky toe-nail.

You really don't know what you have until it's gone. Although my pinky toe-nail was practically non-existant before the incident in Lodi, I still claimed a pinky toe-nail to paint, to clip when it got to long, etc.

I am happy to announce that I now have a fresh pinky toe-nail that I will soon christen with a fresh polishing once it gets long enough. If you wish to view the new toe-nail, go to My Woodward's blog entry "This is what this looks like.

This experience has taught me three things. First, love what you have-even if it is small because you will miss it when it's gone. Second, watch where you tred when brick is around, and third, never trust a Scicilian when death is one the line.

Actually, I already knew that last one, but it's always good to get a little reminder of that one because you never know. You never know.