Well... it sounded like a good idea in my head.

Surgical tweesers... check. Sharp sissors... check. Peroxide, Alcohol, Iodine... check, check, check. Towel, bowl, antibiotic ointment, bandages, tape... checks again.

Bad Idea- triple quadruple check.

I decided that I would become a master surgeon minus about eight years of school and five years of residency and extract a sliver of glass from the ball of my left foot. Said glass has been bothering the hell out of me off and on for about four years now. I had had enough. I set up my operating table and began. I began my removing the callous top layer of skin. No problem, no pain, it's tough. Next came the not-so callous layer... still not too bad. It hurt a little, but not unbearable. Finally I felt the little bastard piece of glass that had been lurking in my foot for almost half a decade. I know I felt it because it was a sharp piercing pain that made me want to say really bad words repeatedly. I drug my foot closer to my operation light (the kitchen window) and looked closely at the wound on my foot. No glass to be seen. I couldn't even see a translucent glimmer of glass. WELLL.... that means it must be there... I did deeper. I say more bad words and even try to jerk my foot out of my own hands. I am persistent. Cali says I am an overachiever. I did my best. I kept digging until I removed a teensy microscopic sliver of glass from my foot. It still hurts like hell. I decided to stop after twenty minutes. I soak my now throbbing bleeding foot in a nice vat of peroxide. When I was a kid peroxide didn't hurt. In fact I thought it was kind of cool that it fizzed when you poured it on a "boo boo". Screw that noise. Peroxide of my youth has been replaced with searing, burning, fizzling pain. I wanted to cry it hurt so bad. Because it hurt so bad and made me want to cry I had to bend and stretch my foot, which in turned stretched my poor surgical wound causing further pain. I did this because I was pissed at myself for hurting. Doesn't make much sense does it? Hurt myself more because I hurt? Go figure that one out. Now I'm sitting here, wanting to swim, but denying myself because of my jacked up foot that is wrapped in bandages oozing antibiotic ointment. I only hope that the little piece of glass was the only one and that my foot can heal and swimming can occur. Shit, walking without pain would be nice... I can wait on the swimming part. Sometimes I wonder about my great ideas.