The solution to tough splinters

Three weeks ago I went camping with a friend at Kaw Lake. We had new kayaks and wanted to test them out on the water.

We walked up and down the shoreline scavenging the area looking for a cleared way to get to the water without having to walk through the briers and brush.

Well my patience ran out faster than our ability to find a distinct pathway. So, I held my kayak over my head and began tromping through the waist-tall weeds, just hoping I wasn’t going to find anything that slithered or crawled.

I got to the water, relieved that I hadn’t found a friend along the way. All I had was a few scratches and a splinter in my left calf.

No big deal.

My entire childhood was filled with briar scratches and splinters.

As the day drug on we kayaked for several hours, then went boating for a few hours, then got stuck on said boat when it died in the middle of the lake for a few hours.

I had to work in the evening and by the time we got back to our camp I had no extra time but to change into my jeans and boots and hit the road.

I assumed that my splinter would be fine and I’d get it out when I got back.

Well that wasn’t the case.

I was horseback riding – driving the splinter even further into my leg. By the time I got home, the area where the splinter was on my leg had gotten big and puffy and gross.

I tried everything to get it out.

Tweezers, needles, nail clippers, a pocketknife, a mixture of baking soda and water and a mixture of baking soda and hydrogen peroxide.

Nothing was working.

The more I dug at it the less I could see it. I fought with this sucker for a week straight before I decided to just let it be.

Wednesday night, I went to my Great Aunt Marty’s house for supper. She took one look at my unpleasant situation and gave me the weirdest, backwoods solution I had ever heard.

Bacon fat.

She wanted me to duct tape bacon fat to my leg for the night.

What?!

I was sure it would lead to an infection, but I thought, “Why not? What do I have to lose?”

Placing bacon fat on my leg and securing it with duct tape was the weirdest feeling – almost like a waste.

That morning when I woke up and removed the tape, the splinter was at the entrance.

I was so excited.

For a while I was beginning to question if I even had a splinter.

This was the first time I had actually seen the piece of wood that was lodged in my leg since I got the thing.

I couldn’t grab it with tweezers because it was at an angle.

I started squeezing and before I knew it the splinter popped out. This sucker was rather large.

This sucker was rather large.

It was as long as my fingernail and thicker then my sewing needles.

As I stood there with this beast of a splinter in my hand, I realized I should have asked for help a long time ago.

Asking for help is hard.

Often times, asking for help feels like admitting weakness.

But that’s not necessarily the case.

Having a need and needing help is not a sign that you’re weak. It’s a sign that you’re human.