Seventeen Years

Seventeen years ago, April, 1991, I was in the 4th grade. One Friday night, instead of riding the bus home from school, I walked with a friend to her house. We played, it was a good time, then my mom came and got me and took me home. In the garage, as I heard the opening of Full House, I got out of the passenger front seat of my mom's car, slammed the door and screamed.

I couldn't talk, I couldn't say "hey, I slammed my right index finger in the car door, please someone help me," all I could do was scream.

Someone came and opened the door, I hadn't broken my finger, but it was bruised. We bandaged the finger, and for a while, I wore a single cloth glove in school to ensure the bandage stayed on, yes, like Michael Jackson. My fingernail was slowly coming off as a new one grew underneath. The old one was still connected by some scar tissue at the end. One of my female classmates wanted the dead fingernail after it came off, I don't remember if I said she could have it or not. When it did come off, I think it came off in the bath, because I never found it. Afterwards, the scar tissue at the tip of my fingernail caused it to split just at the point where the fingernail came detached from the finger.

Before this incident, I had started to notice that I couldn't remember right from left. I had started to simulate writing to determine which side was which. Even before my finger stopped hurting, I realized what a great benefit I had gained. My normal fingernail was the left side, the weird one my right. Even now, at 26, you might notice me check my index fingernail when someone mentions going right or left (except when driving, I can tell right and left when driving, for some reason [and thank goodness]).

Of course, that was until yesterday, when I noticed that the split was gone. It was gone! GONE!
GONE!!

Sorry about my dry skin. As you will notice, aside from the odd colorings on the white part at the base of my nail, this is a completely NORMAL fingernail. I'm trying to remain calm.

After 17 years, that one little abnormality caused by a trauma so bad that I could scarcely remember the feeling a year later, my right index fingernail was back to normal. I've only known my family longer than I've known that weird fingernail. Its been a comfort, always letting me know, without fail, which side was right and which was left. But now, its gone. I don't even have a picture of what it used to look like.