zeptember

This afternoon on the way home from work, I witnessed an elderly man take a fall.

I was stopped at the intersection and witnessed his fall. I hesitated, wondering if I should get involved, since I saw two young teenaged boys right there with him. Then I thought the better of it - perhaps the boys would not know what to do. What if the man was seriously injured?
I pulled over and got out of my car, while the two young teenage boys flagged the bus the man apparently wanted to get on.

The elderly man was shakey and refusing medical treatment as I walked up. The bus driver explained in a heavy accent of some sort that he cannot take people on his bus who are urinating in public or otherwise appear intoxicated. Another woman had walked up to the scene at the same time I did, and we were all trying to get the story from the old man and the bus driver.

Apparently, the elderly man had waited and waited for the bus, which was late. He had to urinate, and he couldn’t hold it any longer, so he began urinating in the bushes when the bus showed up. He ran for the bus, zipper still down, with his shopping cart and his cane in his arms. This is what I saw as I pulled up to the intersection, and the two young teenage boys flagged the bus, which stopped. The elderly man was in a tizzy - all upset at being caught with his pants down, mad that the bus was late, mad at himself for not being able to hold his water…and he spun like a top away from one of the teens, who was trying to calm him, and BAM he fell down hard on his buttocks.

The teens immediately ran to him and helped him up, while a group of three or four disaffected teenaged girls walked by nervously and did not help.

I pulled over and ran to him, as did another woman, and that’s when the bus driver explained in a heavy accent of some sort that he cannot take people on his bus who are urinating in public or otherwise appear intoxicated. The bus driver refused to call his bus company to file an accident report.

I asked the woman if she saw the guy fall - she said no, she saw him laying on the ground and stopped. She and I thanked the shaken up teenagers and I declared I would walk the elderly man home, since he said he only lives two blocks away. I asked him about his butt and his hip - he said he’s fine.

We began walking. The gentleman told me how upset with himself he was for not being able to wait to use a proper bathroom. He felt his entire day was ruined. He seemed ready to cry. He clutched his fists and grated what teeth he has left. I told him in as gentle a tone as possible that it doesn’t have to play out like that - I can take him back home and he can start over again - he can catch another bus later - the stores are open til 9pm.
While walking, I realised my car was parked in a “no parking” zone, so I told the man to stay put, ran to my car, swung around, and hopped back out. He didn’t move from his spot, but he did finally zip up his trousers.

At this point, I offered to drive him home. He exclaimed he has no food and was looking forward to having dinner before grocery shopping. I asked him about his butt and his hip again. He said he’d be fine. I noticed old blood on his shirt, and was that an old bloody wash cloth or a rag stuffed into his waistband? He had thick spit in the corners of his mouth - likely constantly dehydrated. The man looked to me like he is in his late 70’s.

I told the old man I’d take him to South Shore Cafe, and his eyes lit up - he was so happy I knew of the place cuz that’s just where he wanted dinner. I drove him there. We shared where we live about town - we live about a mile apart. The island we live on isn’t so huge, so we’re all neighbors, generally speaking.

As we approached the restaurant, the elderly man told me to let him off a door away from the restaurant so he could test drive his balance.

The old man needed as much help as my father-in-law in getting out of my car, what with his cane and weak legs. The man walked on his own to the restaurant door, past the door, and then turned on his heel to come back ’round…and almost fell again.
I leapt forward to run to catch him, but he caught himself. Good thing because I was too far away to have reached him, had he fallen again.
I approached him calmly, and told him he’ll be eating dinner first, then going grocery shopping if he feels up to it. I told him i saw him spin on his heel.
“oh you saw that, did you?” he quipped with a gleam in his eye.

I wished the gentleman a happy new year. He thanked me profusely, and I waited for him to go into the restaurant before I closed the door behind him.

I keep thinking I should go look for the duplex he says he lives in - see if anyone else lives there - check back in on him. Does he have kids to care for him? A wife? A husband? A social worker?
But I don’t want to appear a stalker or anything like that. I know the old man was really upset with himself, and he was quite embarrassed. I don’t want my checking in on him to bring up a renewal of shame on his part.

I’d like to do ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOTHING for the rest of the night due to being shaken up over this. I don’t know if it’s a United States thing, or a humanity thing, but it seems we are taught to just stay out of other peoples’ business, just leave people alone. While I’m happy to say that nobody left this man alone to suffer after falling down, it does seem like the four of us today did something we are not used to doing. We all appeared a bit shaken.
I’d like to not be so skittish and shaken and just rise to the occasion and help people. I don’t want to hesitate. I just want to leap in when needed. I want to automatically know when the person on the other end is in honest need. Had the gentleman who had fallen been around my age, give or take 10 years, I swear I wouldn’t have stopped, fearing a ruse.
But this man is an elder. Elders deserve respect and dignity. I provided that today.

Dear humanity - I will not have kids to look after me when I am old and frail. I am counting on you to be kind and compassionate out of your own good heart. Today I cared for someone in a manner I would wish for myself, were I in his place.

Rest easy this evening, my neighbor.

Last night I went to the bar with two of my house neighbors, and I drank two glasses of red wine. It’s the first time I have drank alcohol since October 17th, when I got blackout drunk.
I did not feel drunk off of the wine until I got home, and then I felt a bit tipsy and rambly at my husband, who got home at the same time I did.

I drank some water before bed, then read for awhile.
I went to bed and woke a few hours later feeling dehydrated and agitated. I drank some water and went back to bed.

Before my alarm went off, I had a nightmare.

I was in the bedroom when my husband or my brother or both people saw a huge spider on the wall. I ran to get a container to collect the spider and toss it outside. I returned to the bedroom to collect the spider, only to find that it was a giant scorpion. The spider upon first look had been about the size of my thumb, but had become this scorpion the size of my hand. The scorpion was dark brown in colour.

Still, I tried to collect the scorpion into a plastic water pitcher I’d found in the kitchen. The scorpion was highly agitated, and ran down the wall onto the floor. I slammed the pitcher on top of it and the scorpion went wild inside, climbing the walls and settling upside down on the roof of the upside down pitcher. The scorpion began smacking its tail to sting the pitcher, and to my shock, the stinger tried coming through the pitcher! I screeched and jumped and felt a nick on my thumb or finger, but continued to try to get the scorpion out of the house. The scorpion came out of the pitcher and began racing after me. I yelped out and hid behind a door but the thing came right for me at a fast speed. I got out of the way just in time, and tried to figure out how we’d catch this thing. Thoughts of a shovel came to mind at this point… no longer want to collect it but to kill it.

I woke - breathing heavy and panicked. Got up, used the bathroom again, tried to go back to sleep to no avail.

According to Dream Moods,
To see a scorpion in your dream, represents a situation in your waking life which may have been painful or hurtful. It is also indicative of destructive feelings, “stinging” remarks, bitter words and/or negative thoughts being expressed by or aimed against you. Your dream forewarns of a self-destructive and self-defeating path. The scorpion is also a symbol of death and rebirth. You need to get rid of the old and make room for something new.

I had been talked into attending Dickens Faire workshops on Saturday with a friend. I’d created a faux pas when acting in hastily assembled (crazed lunatic) character for a group, I did not greet Mr. Dickens himself in the preferred way. I was told later that the guy who plays Dickens is seriously full of himself, but it didn’t matter - I felt I had already let the guildmaster down somehow by this faux pas, and I brooded over it all weekend.

On Sunday, after a long day of continued homework for the class which finished on Halloween, which I’m very late turning in, I went to the bar with my neighbors and drank for the first time in a month. I knew I was being bad, since I have been in therapy for drinking, but I drank anyway. I felt guilty when I got home but did not outright tell my husband I’d been drinking. I was rebelling a bit, not wanting to be “caught” or “get in trouble”, but wanting to do what I pleased, when I felt I have things under control. I feel like there is no leeway - I feel like if I drink, people assume I will automatically be out of control every time.

Hence the scorpion dream.

Alcohol is a central nervous system (CNS) depressant. I blacked out on alcohol last Saturday night and spent the entire next day on bedrest, I was so hung over. As of today, I’m still dehydrated. It is not a surprise that I’m also seriously depressed since Sunday.

I had my head shrink appointment yesterday and talked a little about what happened. I expected the shrink to listen to me, but instead she spent the hour interjecting her assumptions about my behaviour, and also disbelieving my reasons and insecurities. She’s never been this bad, before. I was highly annoyed by this, and finally told her to STOP.
I told her I don’t think we’re a good fit and that I’m really doubting whether to continue with her.

Examples of the things she said to me was:

“You didn’t HAVE to go to your husband’s reunion - he makes enough money, he could have just let it go.”
NO, I committed to go and wanted to go to show support for him. He was really anxious and nervous himself about this. And although he makes “enough money”, he can be very frugal, and has actually been QUITE frugal since finally realising that I’ve become financially dependent upon him because my job pays jack shit and I’ve spent the last three years trying to make a living outside of dotcom work so that I don’t end up in a fucking padded cell.

“You could have left the room / left the reunion all together once you were attempting to take that first drink”.
NO, I couldn’t - when the anxiety sets in that way, I become rooted and fixed, like a deer caught in headlights. I endure rather than extricate. That is what my mind does to me. I’ve been going over this with you from session one.
That woman actually argued with me on this, and kept saying, “yes, yes you could have left, I think it would have been okay.”

HELLO! NOT LISTENING!!!

She began to plead with me to try rehab and at this point I got verbally combative with her. I had full on attitude at this point. Not using expletives or calling her names or anything like that - just being VERY assertive in my refusal and saying I don’t CARE about anyone else’s sob story in group therapy, it’s a total waste of my time and energy when I’m telling you up front that I’m not on board with it, and besides, sending me to a group type therapy situation when I have severe social phobia is counterproductive and will lead me into the bottle faster than you can say BOO.

And then she wanted to talk about my dysfunctional fundamentalist family again. She returns to this subject every time we’re in session. I told her she’s fascinated by this story of mine. She called my family ‘tragic’.
I told her having to talk about my upbringing and my family has dredged up a lot of anger and anxiety. I told her I came to therapy to discuss my social anxiety issues - the anxiety which leads me to drink alcohol when I’m out. I told her the family issues are a whole other topic.

Again she went back to false assumptions about my social alcoholic behaviour and I had to tell her to STOP. I told her she can’t ever think I’m making progress, and she can’t ever assume that a certain social situation WILL lead me to drink. I cited several examples of where I’d be led to drink in one case but not in the other, for the same type of event or outing.
She responded with “it makes it very hard to treat you.”

WELL! I’m so sorry I’m not nicely fitted into one of your psychological DSMs!

We ended the session with her asking me what my availability is for next week. I responded, “bedridden”. It’ll be george time again.
She penciled me in sometime during the first week of November, but I am now seriously doubting whether I want to continue with this woman.

I feel like I’m left to fight through my social phobia alone, once again.

In other news, I have not gotten another canker sore since Saturday. I threw away the chapstick with clove oil, thinking perhaps my body is allergic to it, or that it had become contaminated. And I’ve been rehydrating with pedialyte and with electrolyte water since Sunday.

The depression is the worst, right now.

We’re four days from our one year wedding anniversary, and I have no interest in celebrating it. There’s a big ugly reason in there too that I don’t want to get into. The hint is trust - ruined in May, 2009.

We’re ten days away from Halloween and have no definite plans for that day/night, or that weekend for that matter. We have barely decorated the house this year. The haunted backyard isn’t happening because no one had time to give to it this year (but I’ve been fine with that - just wanted to note that it’s not happening in case I look back and say, “what, did you cancel your haunted backyard due to depression?” No, it got cancelled and I am actually happy about that).

I need to get past this bout of depression.

I told my therapist what I need right now is ativan to help me because I’m either going to continue to get into that bottle to manage my anxiety and stress, or I’m going to continue taking vicoprofen to calm the hell down, when vicoprofen is supposed to be for my endometriosis pain, NOT stress.

She wrote a letter to my doctor urging him to prescribe ativan for me, then gave me a lecture on how not to abuse it. I rolled my eyes at her and told her I’ve been on this for short term periods less than a handful of times in my life. I basically told HER to chill out.

Seriously. She’s fired. I’m looking for a new shrink.

Two more things - my eyes are still weeping sticky, itchy goo, and yesterday the goo went from clear-coloured to white. I’ve been using Naphcon-A allergy eye drops since yesterday but it doesn’t feel like it’s helping. I made an appointment to see my eye doctor - that appointment is tomorrow.

I’ve also been wracking my brains as to what’s causing me to be so sensitive suddenly to chemicals. I had a disturbing revelation yesterday - I likely caused this myself by consenting to have my house sprayed down with Deltamethrin to rid us of the severe ant problem we had over the summer. The ant spraying happened in late August or early September, and after all the bitching I did about having autoimmune issues and not wanting the spray, I not only caved in and allowed it, I actually WALKED IN DURING THE SPRAYING because I forgot something petty before leaving the house. I had my nose and mouth fully covered by two shirts when I walked in, but still.
If the initial exposure didn’t do it, perhaps coming back to the house several hours after spraying did it and I’m just that sensitive, like I had feared. We should have stayed out of the house with the cats overnight.

I have had a lot of self-hatred going on lately, which magnifies the depression. Let’s see if I make it out alive.

On Saturday I got in to see the doctor to find out if I still had pink eye. I had woken up with crusties in my eyes that morning, and I was still experiencing light sensitivity and itchy eyes, but they never got that stereotypical red gross infected look the entire time I’ve had pink eye. My eyes looked bloodshot at times but even that was fleeting.

Before going to the doctor’s office, another canker sore popped out.
The doctor I saw was not the same doctor I saw last time (it’s always whoever is on duty). She told me that my lymph nodes were swollen again, and that a canker sore MIGHT cause the lymph nodes to be swollen. More than that, she said that a virus MIGHT ALSO cause a canker sore. The previous doctor had said a canker sore would NOT cause swollen lymph nodes, and had said that canker sores are NOT caused by viruses.

The doctor examined my eyes and said I was over the worst of it, and cleared me to go out in public without running the risk of infecting people. She said point blank that I was no longer contagious but that I should continue to practice frequent hand washing until the virus has run its course.

I showed her the canker sore and she said any stress, mentally or physically on the body, could cause canker sores. She said having a virus is a stress on the body.

I told her about the eye drops feeling like they were making my eyes worse, and how I got diarrhea and sore throat - I told her I suspect those are side effects to the eye drops because I discontinued the drops for over 24 hours and the diarrhea and sore throat cleared. I began using the eye drops again and got the same side effect the next morning - that morning of the doctor appointment.
The doctor examined my throat and found that it was indeed inflamed. She told me it was okay to discontinue the eye drops and that no replacement antibiotic drops were necessary, and she said her staff would dispose of the drops (I had brought them with me).

At the close of the visit, we went over my blood test results - the thyroid and the liver blood panels came back perfect. I asked the doctor if I was in the high end of normal or the low end of normal for the thyroid panel - she said I was smack in the middle of normal. Hooray! But boo! I was kinda hoping that I could explain some of the pelvic pain away with a thyroid issue, but I guess my thyroid is fine. Which means the endometriosis is still rife within me. Simply taking a thyroid medicine won’t help rid me of the pain. I need to get another surgery to carve out the endometriosis, if it is even able to be carved out.
Ugh. Surgery. Ugh, being cut open. Ugh, $1,500 or more out of pocket co-pay. Ugh, two solid weeks off work again. Ugh, recovery is a bitch. You see why I’d rather it have been a thyroid issue which I could just take a pill for?
I’m not giving up on the thyroid issue, dammit. My ‘normal’ body temperature is around 97.5°F. THAT screams hypothyroidism.

I got home from the doctor’s office and told my husband the good news - I could accompany him to his 20-year high school reunion, because the doctor said I was no longer highly contagious.

However, as the day progressed, the canker sore got bigger, and bigger and for the first time since I began getting the canker sores, this one actually hurt.

We went out that night and I fell off the wagon. I drank about a bottle to a bottle and a half worth of red wine. I am told I did not make an ass out of myself and that although visibly drunk I was on par with everyone else - and fine in that regard - all night. I blacked out toward the end of the night though. I don’t remember anything. Next memory I have is of me puking in the bathroom sink.
I got drunk because I was experiencing social phobia, and I was triggered by being in the same room with some of the people who tormented my husband in high school. This triggered me because my 20-year high school reunion was last month and I did not go to it because I still harbour resentment towards many of my class mates for how much they picked on me. That and I just couldn’t afford to fly out there.

The thing is, this morning from the time I woke up, I have not been this sick since I overdosed on LIQUOR.
But all I drank all night was wine.
Today I have been severely nauseated and have had the spins for the entire day. It was so bad that I remained bedridden all day. I barely ate anything. Even drinking water was difficult because of how nauseous I’ve been.
My husband took a shower and when he got out and returned to the bedroom to get dressed, I was overwhelmed with fragrance emanating from him. It was just his shampoo. It wasn’t even the horrid hair product which has keeled me over in the past. Just the fragrance in his shampoo set me off today and I staggered out of the bedroom choking for air and went and laid on the couch after setting up a fan to blow cool air in from outside.

This is really disconcerting for me. If I suddenly can no longer handle the fragrance in shampoo, it really is time to switch to a scent-free household. Last week it was the hand lotion a teacher gifted me with, which just the week before had been fine. Now suddenly the scent made me gag and gave me headaches. Yesterday we went to Sephora so I could buy new makeup (because when you get pink eye, you have to throw away your makeup), and being in that store gave me a headache and it was difficult to breathe. I did not have that problem the last time I was in that store, which was a couple of months ago.

What triggers multiple chemical sensitivity like that? Is it because I caught a virus? Will I go back to being able to handle the scent in my husband’s shampoo or is it a permanent new sensitivity?

I was able to calm my tummy for a bit with some lemongrass/chamomile tea, and by dinnertime I was actually hungry. My husband got us some thai food - I ate a little bit of vegetable pad thai and drank some thai coconut soup, and then my stomach became all unsettled again. I took some ginger tea that my husband brought home, and that helped.

But seriously? This sick off of wine?
Either I really have lost any sense of booze tolerance or someone put something in my drink last night. I don’t dare try to find out which it was. I just don’t want to drink booze of any sort. I want this feeling of avoidance to stay with me.

The canker sore popped sometime between last night and this morning. It left a crater, which is still painful and irritated.

Nice going on the one sick to another, there.

And I was hoping to have a few weeks with good health before the pelvic pain returned. Instead, I’ve been wrestling with a virus caught from work and social alcoholism. Way to go.

Just…don’t do that again.

I have no idea if I’ll be well enough to return to work tomorrow, which stresses me out.

Little things are happening every day that turn out to be big issues for me. I can barely keep on top of it. I’m keeping a running log of things. I’m scared. I have had canker sores for almost a month now, when I never get them, and I’m told it’s nothing to worry about. But other stuff is going on with my body on top of that. SOMETHING is going on, goddammit.

On September 18, I got a canker sore on the inside of my bottom lip. It went away by the next day but then I got another one all over again.

On September 20th, I began getting moderate pain in my upper left shoulder blade and in through the back of my ribs. My shoulders tightened and my back went out for a bit. I was on Tylenol 3 all day.

On September 21st, the shoulder/back pain was intermittent. A third canker sore popped out. This is the same day I found out one of my students had hand, foot and mouth disease, so I went to the doctor right after work. I was told I did not have cold sores which are contagious, that it is in fact canker sore, which is not contagious. I was also told that I *am* fighting something, because my lymph nodes were swollen. I did not have a fever.

On September 22nd, my shoulders were sore and I woke up with shin splints. The canker sore was going away but was replaced by another one - this time under the back left side of my tongue (back by my molars).

Then it all cleared up - the back and neck pain dissipated and went away, and so did the canker sores.

On September 25th, I experienced dizziness as I was leaving a friend’s house, and had to grab hold of the wall for support.

On October 7 I ate corn tortilla chips with guacamole, lettuce, jalapenos, extra cheese, pico de gallo, and red chip sauce. I had orange juice to drink.
Within the hour, I had diarrhea twice, and felt really wiped out. I went to bed.
Upon waking the next morning, I had loose stool but not quite diarrhea.

On October 6 or 7, my left thumb split open again and began hurting, so I’ve had a bandaid on it ever since. When I get a G.I. reaction to food and my fingers also split open, it’s because of a food allergy. Am I now allergic to corn, too?!??

On October 6, I got a canker sore around 1pm. It cleared up by the next day. This is the fourth or fifth canker sore I’ve had since September 19th.

October 7 - I bicycled to work wearing a pair of slightly tight jeans. There was not enough room for my legs in the jeans to pedal without stressing the knees a bit. By the time I got home from work, my knees were very sore. I live only a mile from work.

October 8 - I drove to work instead of bicycling, because my knees were hurting so much from the previous day. I have congenitally misaligned knees and with that, osteoarthritis, which has been present since childhood. I was on doctor’s orders NOT to participate in some gym activities since grade school because of my bad knees.

October 8 - In direct contradiction to what my body needed (rest), I scrubbed the kitchen floor when I got home from work. I was on my hands and knees for part of the time, and bending/squating for part of the time.

October 8 - I had a bowl of pumpkin ice cream for dinner (cow’s milk). I ate two lactaid pills before eating the ice cream. Noting here in case an allergic reaction presents itself.

October 9 - I bicycled to and from work, and worked an entire day. My lower back, upper legs and knees ached from floor scrubbing the day prior.
Another canker sore popped out.
When I got home from work, I walked half a mile to my shrink, and back again. When my husband got home from work, we walked half a mile to dinner, and back again. My body ached and emotionally I felt very depressed, even before the shrink appointment. This translated to high anxiety by nighttime, and my entire back was sore/tight.

October 10 - I woke feeling like a mack truck ran over me, but got in the shower and got dressed. The canker sore from the 9th went away just in time for a new canker sore to pop out. I made a doctor appointment to follow up on the canker sores and swollen lymph nodes. Drove the half mile to the doctor’s appointment and back again because my lower back and legs ached too much to walk.
Was told lymph nodes are fine. Talked to doctor at length about autoimmune issues. Told the doctor that I’ve been getting thyroid testing for the past 8 years and it always comes back within the normal range, whatever that is. She searched my file on their network and found the blood panels, and told me that I’m actually on the low end of normal, which is hyperthyroidism. She told me that in recent years there’s been a raging debate about what constitutes ‘normal’ in thyroid panels. I checked and the only symptoms I exhibit for hyperthyroidism would be the anxiety and palpitations - this has been going on for years…we’re talking upwards of almost two decades.

I got scripts for thyroid and liver enzyme blood draws. This time the thyroid draw will be more in depth than previous years.
Got mad at my body for aching so went walking with my husband. Walked for just over 1 mile round trip, and it hurt. I had to sit down and rest half-way through, and let my husband window-shop.
Went out that night. Moderate anxiety. Severe back pain, starting in low back, spreading to entire back. Was on vicoprofen all night.

October 11 - had a massage at 11am which was nice and relaxing. Drank trader joe’s bedtime tea after the massage. Was mostly relaxed and mellow for the rest of the day. Went to a housewarming party in town, then drove alone across the bay bridge to SF for a friend’s birthday party. The party was sadly very small but at the same time, continued mellow for me. Got home by 10:30pm but didn’t get to sleep til about 11:30pm. Low anxiety day.

October 12 - was tired all day as a result of being up an hour and a half past bedtime the night before, but that’s the worst of it. The mellow continued throughout the day. There were only ever six children in my class at one time, instead of 12, because the head teacher was out sick. On the way home I got the blood draw done and spent the evening doing laundry. The night ended on a bad note because husband came to bed with a chemical in his hair that makes me choke for air. He gets super defensive every time I tell him I cannot breathe when he applies that stuff. I had to wear a dust mask and sleep cocooned. I wanted to cry, I was so mad at him.

October 13 - canker sore popped out sometime before 11am on the inside of my lip - it’s always in the same place. I had applied Burts Bees lip balm to my lips about an hour beforehand - is that what’s causing it? Threw lip balm away. A small sore erupted on my right index finger by noontime, and was painful. It did not bleed but looked like an open sore.
Mucous-like sticky substance along with tears poured suddenly from my right eye around 2:45pm. Happened a couple of times before I got out of work at 4:30pm, then happened while at my shrink appt around 6:15pm, then again just as I arrived home around 6:30pm. This time it was accompanied by itching and burning. The frequency of the goo increased dramatically after that, and continued through the night. Called in sick to work, then called the doctor, who said it’s likely contagious pink eye, not allergic reaction pink eye like I was hoping. She called in a prescription for antibiotic drops but says it’s more likely a virus than bacterial, but that I should do the drops just in case. First eye drops applied around 11:30pm.

October 14 - Off work. Woke with eyes trying to stick shut. More eye drops applied, and continuing every 5 hours, 4x/day, for the next week.
Noticed a small “strawberry” on my left breast while in the shower - no lumps or thickening of the breast detected upon inspection.
Yet another canker sore, taking the place of the one that popped out and cleared up the day before.
The sore on my right index finger began healing but was still tender to the touch.