Who Leaves Nails Just Laying Around? Honestly?

I stepped on a nail tonight. And not just any nail - it was a giant nail. I did not enjoy that sensation much at all.

It was a good day overall. Starting off with some apple cinnamon pancakes, I spent most of my day enjoying the beautiful, breezy Summer weather while reading on my back patio, occasionally cooled off by the wind kindly peppering me with water from the fountain next to me. I then took my evening to the gym and managed to stay on the elliptical for a good 45 minutes. I also managed to work somewhat hard for 30 of those 45 minutes. My parents were gone all day and evening, enjoying the canyons in Park City for their anniversary, so I felt at my leisure to do what I wished. I felt that tonight would be a good night for ice cream, and it was decided that I would take a quick after-workout walk to Arctic Circle for a small shake once it got a little darker and I had eaten some real dinner. Then I would busy myself until 2am or so, followed by a little star-gazing to see if I'd be able to catch some of the Perseid meteor showers despite the poor viewing conditions of a suburb.

My friend Nate has impeccable timing sometimes, and tonight was one of those nights. He called just as I finished eating dinner and said he was feeling Arctic Circle tonight, so we decided to go a little earlier than I had originally planned. Nate biked to my house and then we took a short walk to AC for our nighttime snack. I went in craving a strawberry shortcake shake and ordered a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup shake. What can I say? My chocolate cravings are sudden and over-powering at best. We sat and ate and talked, and 15 minutes after Nate had finished his shake, I finally finished mine (I'm a very slow ice cream eater). So we headed back to my house. We cut through the parking lot of the apartment complex across the street from my house, where AC is located, and as we passed a car, I felt a sudden force hit my rubber flip flop. I thought I'd stubbed the front of my foot on something, but when I looked back, there was not speed bump, car stop, or anything of the sort where I had just stepped. I also shook my flip flop a little to dislodge the rock I had felt come under my foot. I stepped again. The rock had not budged. I took my flip flop off and when I pulled it up - having shaken it once for good measure to get that pesky rock out - I saw a giant nail poking through, having come in at a 45 degree angle.

I was quite surprised at the sight, you could say.

I pulled the nail out and wondered what to do with it. Nate said to take it home and throw it away, which was the obvious answer, but to be honest, I wanted to be done with it then and there. I didn't want to carry the blasted thing back with me, after what it had done to me! But I clutched it between two fingers, checked if my foot was bleeding or punctured at all - it was not bleeding, thank goodness! - and then made the walk home, pain quietly searing my foot. The whole time Nate kept putting my mind at ease with his vocal hopes that I didn't get tetanus. Each step was a little more painful with every reminder that I very well could get tetanus - so hopefully I didn't actually get it. Thanks Nate.

In my surprise by the sight of that very unwelcome visitor, the rusty nail, I was having a hard time making my key work to unlock our front door, and finally my mom came to my rescue and opened the door. Before she could finish her question of "where've you been?" I thrust the pesky nail between us and said, "I stepped on a nail!" I didn't really feel like beating around the bush regarding the incident. It seemed better to just say it like it was. I stepped on a giant nail. It wasn't pleasant. The ball of my left foot was throbbing slightly on the left side, under my pinky toe.

After we concluded that my foot was not bleeding, my parents sent me to wash my foot off and see if we could make it bleed. I didn't particularly care for that to happen, but I trusted them to know what was best. I washed my foot, and then brought it back out for them to look at. It continued to stubbornly remain dry, and I realized that this was actually better. Than perhaps dad would not send me to the doctor for a tetanus shot. We had decided I must have gotten one in high school at least, so the 10-year limit on the shot must still be valid. But I brought my foot to my mother to look at, and a small, gray spot that hurt when she pushed against it, next to it, around it, on it, made her wonder if it was a sliver. So handy daddy busted out a needle and his clippers, sat down on a chair, propped my foot up on a pillow - the rest of me lay on the floor, covering my eyes, flexing the right foot in sympathy for the left - and went to work digging around the spot with the needle to loosen the skin and get the "sliver" out. Cat came and rubbed his head on mine, staying close as my comfort.

After 10 minutes of little progress and one more foot bath, we decided the best action right now would be to throw some neosporin on the pained, slightly punctured skin, cover it with a bandaid, and see what tomorrow brings.

So here I sit, a bandaid on a foot that stings a little when I step on the ball of it, rather frustrated that I had to step in the exact spot of that nail, hoping I don't have tetanus, mildly impressed at how it entered my shoe and that I'm not more wounded. To be perfectly frank, it sucks, stepping on a giant, rusty nail, and my foot hurts. But if I want to look at the bright side, which I think I will (life is easier when you end thoughts on a more positive note), it could be quite a bit worse. The nail could've gone straight up through my foot, it could've punctured my skin a lot more, and I could have much less competent parents who do nothing for me. The fact remains, despite the needle dad kept rubbing slightly painfully around my wound, my foot got a tiny little massage tonight as well, so that's gotta count for something, right? Hopefully everything will be alright, but I'll definitely let you know if I end up getting my foot cut off or something. Because that seems like a big enough event to write about.