Friday afternoon I left Chicago right after work to head out to Kingston for a get together with family. I was going to spend the night, so I had dropped a bag off at my car that morning so that I could make a quick getaway right after work.
I got to my car and really wanted to brush my teeth, so I fished out my toiletries bag and dug out my toothbrush and toothpaste. The toothpaste was frozen--I couldn't squeeze any of it out. So I capped it back up and packed up the bag. It was then that I noticed a patch of blood on the side of my right index finger. I hadn't felt a thing; my fingers were numb from the minute or two with my gloves off while I wrestled the toothpaste. When I reached into my bag, my razor lopped off a large chunk of skin. The wound was shallow, but it was a wide patch. The blood was a trickle, so I put the knuckle in my mouth and sucked the blood away. Once my finger warmed up, however, the blood started to really flow. It was challenging to keep the blood under control when I had to take the finger out of my mouth to shift the manual transmission of my car. I dug around looking for napkins or something to close up the wound. All I had was a clean sock that I had packed for the next morning.
And that is how I came to show up at my Aunt & Uncle's house with a bloody sock wrapped around my finger, asking if they had any bandages I could borrow. Three days later, the wound is still oozing; I wonder if it will scab up, and if it will leave a scar.