A couple of months ago I was spatchcocking* a chicken to ready it for the grill when in a fantastic display of dexterity, I sliced open my left middle finger. I cut an impressively deep chunky flappy wound which started to gush blood all over the kitchen and throb like hell, so I tightly wrapped it in bandaid after bandaid.
After many hours it stopped bleeding, and then it hurt like hell. After several days the wound seemed to be healing nicely, though it still hurt like hell.
The area then began to morph into this strange mound with a crater-like hole in the middle. It looked almost like the callous that you get on whatever finger you rest your pen on, but with a hole at the top like a volcano. Of course, I kept picking at it and squeezing it because as anyone who knows me knows, I can't leave anything alone.
A couple of weeks went by and it wasn't improving much, if at all. It hurt too. Like hell. So I finally asked Dr. Dinnerman to take a look.
"Hmm", he said, "This looks like a foreign body granuloma."
I reminded him how it happened.
"I shall call it a spatchcock granuloma!", he said, obviously pleased with himself.
He dug around in there with his ever present tweezer-like tool for a while, but couldn't really visualize anything in there. He did, however, make it hurt like hell.
But he evidently did something, because the mound on my finger started to shrink and within a week it was gone.
The chicken was fantastic, by the way. Dr. Dinnerman loved it.
It was, all in all, a worthwhile endeavor. It was also an interesting social experiment.
People give you funny looks when you tell them you spatchcocked a chicken. Some ask you to expound upon what it means to spatchcock. Some just smile and nod.
*Spatchcocking is the process by which the backbone is cut out of a chicken to flatten it before cooking. It allows for more even cooking in less time.
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