One can keep track of the passage of time by the changes in one's body. The obvious signs are hairfall (for many men, at least) and waist size. But, these are signs of inexorable decline are decidedly one-way. What about cycles? My toenail troubles haunt me every few years, so I suppose my toenails are contenders measuring phases and cycles in my life.
I had a nagging problem with ingrown toenails for months when I was around 17. Apart from being painful, it was annoying because I had to spend months with my toenails in different forms of bandages, all of which were required to be kept dry. The problems ended when I had surgery on both big toenails which involved removing the edges of the toenails from their beds. I was so exasperated that I had asked for the entire toenail to be removed from the root. But, the doctor replied that he wouldn't do that since I was unmarried. Apparently, shabby toenails are a deal breaker in the arranged marriage market.
My toenails didn't give me any trouble for the next 8-9 years. I remember I was playing with my nephews in my parent's home when I accidentally knocked one of my big toenails with my other foot. The impact pushed my toenail into a vertical position, a position change lubricated by not insignificant amounts of blood. Obviously, the toenail would have to come off, even though I was still unmarried at the time. I remember struggling to find a surgeon to do the job and eventually a part-timer was roped in.
No toenail trouble for the next few years, until the removed toenail started to grow back and refused to be well-behaved. It was the cause of a few painful weeks in Holland until I found a large toenail clipper to prune it back into shape. Four years later, that toenail is giving me trouble again. It has grown in such a way that it is impossible to prune and I am resigned to it being uprooted, accompanied by adequate amounts of blood and pain.
In the interim, it was the turn of my other more well-behaved toenail to act up. I was in a local train in Mumbai when someone stepped on it and pushed it out of its root. A few painful days followed and I got in touch with a surgeon friend to have it removed. He committed to do so but kept dillying-dallying, which wasn't unfortunate because the toenail came loose of its own accord after a few days. No need for surgery and large bandages which would have had to be protected from water.
I have resigned myself to future agony on account of my toenails and my eyes. That's just the way it is.
I had a nagging problem with ingrown toenails for months when I was around 17. Apart from being painful, it was annoying because I had to spend months with my toenails in different forms of bandages, all of which were required to be kept dry. The problems ended when I had surgery on both big toenails which involved removing the edges of the toenails from their beds. I was so exasperated that I had asked for the entire toenail to be removed from the root. But, the doctor replied that he wouldn't do that since I was unmarried. Apparently, shabby toenails are a deal breaker in the arranged marriage market.
My toenails didn't give me any trouble for the next 8-9 years. I remember I was playing with my nephews in my parent's home when I accidentally knocked one of my big toenails with my other foot. The impact pushed my toenail into a vertical position, a position change lubricated by not insignificant amounts of blood. Obviously, the toenail would have to come off, even though I was still unmarried at the time. I remember struggling to find a surgeon to do the job and eventually a part-timer was roped in.
No toenail trouble for the next few years, until the removed toenail started to grow back and refused to be well-behaved. It was the cause of a few painful weeks in Holland until I found a large toenail clipper to prune it back into shape. Four years later, that toenail is giving me trouble again. It has grown in such a way that it is impossible to prune and I am resigned to it being uprooted, accompanied by adequate amounts of blood and pain.
In the interim, it was the turn of my other more well-behaved toenail to act up. I was in a local train in Mumbai when someone stepped on it and pushed it out of its root. A few painful days followed and I got in touch with a surgeon friend to have it removed. He committed to do so but kept dillying-dallying, which wasn't unfortunate because the toenail came loose of its own accord after a few days. No need for surgery and large bandages which would have had to be protected from water.
I have resigned myself to future agony on account of my toenails and my eyes. That's just the way it is.
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