While in Washington [state!] over the holidays I helped install a beautiful wood floor at my in-laws. I got one splinter in my left ring finger tip. That little piece of wood has been in me for more than a month and it has been irritating me. This morning if finally came out of me and it was like a limp noodle when I pulled it out. My body had had enough of its craziness and decided that playing the guitar was way more important than hurting.
Sure, I could have pulled it out earlier, but I’m not a big fan of needles and tweezers digging into my flesh for a small piece of wood. Heck, it wouldn’t even help start a fire let alone be worth doing anything else but throwing away! So, I just let my body do its thing until they come out. Yes, I could get an infection and lose my finger. Yes, I could have the splinter work its way through my body and come out of my head 30 years down the road. But most of the time, to my knowledge, my body just rejects them and pushes them back out.
And I’m OK with that.