The ball of my foot felt like it had a tiny very sharp splinter or maybe a grit caught in my sock or shoe. A pin prick sort of thing.
Took off my shoe and dumped it out. Brushed off the sock. No help. Took off the sock and turned it inside out and shook it. Wiped off my foot. No help. Sat down and with the aid of a lever or two got my foot onto my knee, a place it had not been in a while, and brushed it and looked closely. There was a hair that appeared to be growing out of the ball of my foot. A thin white hair about 3/4" long. Did not think you had hair there so I gave it a tug. With more effort than I thought it it should take, it came out. Pretty shure it belonged to either the dog or cat and had gotten itself implanted. Looked more closely and there was another working its way into my big toe. The pain is gone. Weird.
We grew up with black tarry stuff that Grandma had in the medicine chest. Somehow it did what it said, it drew the splinter out. Dad on the other hand used to torture us with his pen knife, ice pick or whatever sort of pointy thing handy that could excavate a trench down to the offending splinter.
I've since found out that drawing salve is called Ichthammol ointment. I'd love to know why it works. Every time I use it I laugh when that splinter pops out. I still use an exacto knife on occasion just to relive the memories...
2nd on black salve. Seriously looked for "black salve" for years, but couldn't find a pharmacist who had a clue. Finally ran into a old guy who knew what I was talking about. He called "back home" to Kentucky who eventually got it back to me. Tchthammol 20% is what I ended up with and comes in a old fashioned squeeze tube. Goldline Labs, Miami, FL. Says to keep away from metal solids. Contains petroleum and lanolin, mineral oil and other stuff I can't read. EXTERNAL and keep away from eyes.
It may be the 20% but it doesn't work with the efficiency I remember, but worth a try.
Gary, I think the salve you are referring to is the same one that Clifton mentioned. I use the same one with the first letter being an I, not a T. Mine is the local CVS pharmacy brand. And you are right, it doesn't seem to be as the one I remember in my youth. George
When I was growing up I got my share of slivers. At first I'd gonseenthe household medic...Mom. The tweezers would come out along with the Bactine...I like that smell! Mom would excavate and usually get the splinter out
But...at times the household medic was busy so I'd get sent to her assistant...Dad. He would generally be sitting in his chair when I came up with my hand out for his exam. Let's look at that over here under the good light. So we'd move the couch where there was a bright swing arm lamp. Uh huh...let's look Then henlean over and fish out his pen knife from his pocket. I'd snuggle up close and bend my hand into the light. Biting my lip cuz I was used to the excavations done by the Household Medic. Dad never bothered with Bactine. Like Admiral Nelson of the Royal Navy he subscribed to the motto, No maneuvers, go straight at them!
Dads pen knife had been sharpened on the stone in the workshop so much that the smaller blade had a nice needle point Perfect for prying outnspliners. Dad never excavated either. Dad never made my hand hurt worse. Dad always got the splinter out and would hold it up on the tipnofnhis penknife like a trophy wallet
Years later Mom and Dad were in a pre-retirement Purge mode...see
The packrat thread. They asked my sis, bro and if we wanted anynof their goods before they went to Goodwill. Nothing came to mind until the next day. I called them that evening. They in Phoenix me in Minneapolis. I asked if I could have the penknife. Of course...
A couple of days later I got a small package in the mail from them. Yup...the penknife. I was crushed...it seemed like Dad had leaned over inhis chair and pulled out the penknife to send it to me. That night...back when we had to pay high rates for long distance calls before 7pm...I called an apologized for taking the penknife out of his pocket. Dad let out a great laugh and told me that his buddies at work had gotten him a new pocket knife for retirement. The penknife was in the desk drawer
After a lifetime of Dads use the black bone sides have both broken off. The blades are like Black Bart's pencil thin moustache. It is now in my desk drawer for those times I need to perform self-surgery.
Come to think of it...I wonder if the use of Bactine by the Houseehold Medicnis what caused it to hurt. Maybe it was the snuggle and close contact with Dad that had an affect on the pain.
When I was a kid we would go visit Mom's parents. A bunch of cousins were there and we wanted to play baseball. Couldn't find a bat. Big Daddy went to his shop in the barn and made us one. That was over sixty years ago. Had a reunion with the cousins recently and asked about the bat. I was hoping they remembered and really hoping it was still around. They all remembered it but no one had saved it. A wonderful conversation but crushing in the end. I'd give my left hind leg to have it. May be why I like turning today.
Sounds very familiar, my dad was exactly the same with his black pocket knife, I was always amazed as a kid that it came out of his pocket to do so many things. When he passed it was all I wanted, it was not found and I still think of it now and then. I too carry a small pocket knife and smile every time I use mine, I know he'd love to know I still do the same things he did.
Great story. When my dad passed one of the things I got was his old electrician's knife. He hadn't carried it in years. My cousin got the small pocket knife my dad carried for the last 10 years. It was one I gave him. I hope my son enjoy's my knives. I have about 30.:) Can't help it. When I see a good blade I gotta have it. I have a knife signed by Bill Gerber and Randall knife engraved with my name along with a lot of others.
