I was wincing waiting for the splinter to happen.
When I was a kid I made the mistake of going via rollerskate near a very old wooden fence, and I tripped and fell and ended up getting a bunch of splinters in my hands. My mom ended up taking me to the doctor to get most of them removed. One of them was pretty deeply-embedded, though, and stayed there and kept on irritating me until I finally dug it out with a pen knife in college.
Wow! That’s so strange! If I ever get a splinter that’s in deep, my body seems to push it out. A week later it’s right below the skin ready to come out.
It was below the epidermis. Sort of like a tattoo made of wood.
Yikes! That must have killed!
I hardly ever felt it, and it was just a mild nuisance, really. It wasn’t in a very sensitive spot. It was oddly relieving to get it out though.
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