When I was 13, I had an accident at summer camp. Two of my friends bought knife-sharpening kits and were making their Swiss Army knives sharp as hell. I borrowed one of the knives and was casually poking a dead tree with it. I might have been trying to carve something. Yes, it was quite an act of stupidity. Swiss Army knives do not have locks on the blade. The knife closed on the middle knuckle of my index finger, and I screamed.

I immediately pulled the knife back open, catching a glimpse of something white underneath all the blood. I don't know if it was flesh or bone. I kept my finger as straight as I could to close the wound, as my friends escorted me to the nurse's office. She took me in her car to go to one of the other nurse's offices, around the corner (we could have walked, but hey, maybe this was an emergency). She asked if I thought I needed stitches. I never had stitches before, and I never heard anything good about them. So given the option, I said no. Stupidity act #2.

I had that bandage on for quite some time. I was still in New Hampshire, this time at the condo my parents had. I went to the local hospital with my mom and my dad's aunt who was staying with us. They carefully took off the bandage. Major, major, pus. Pus galore. But they cleaned it up.

Today I have a huge scar across my knuckle. I can't fully curl that finger like I can curl the rest of my fingers. I can make two right angles from the hand but that's it. Fortunately, this never really affected my bass playing. Though on the very rare occasion that I play with a pick, I use the biggest ones I can find. You really need that outter most knuckle to hold one, and because the bending of my middle knuckle is limited, I don't have much of an outter (third) knuckle.

But these days I do wonder if something can be done about this finger. I'm getting itchy varicose veins on it today, but maybe that has to do more with lack of sleep (which is the only time I've really noticed it). I've gotten a few pains with people who (literally) rubbed it the wrong way, pushing the bit of skin in the middle. I've got to be a little careful whenever I reach into my right pocket.

I hate physical annoyances like this.