As far as cool finger injuries go…
When I was 14, I slammed my finger in the door.
Well, the story goes, my parents were heading up to Grandma’s house (a good 2+ hour drive) for two days, mother’s day and the day following, because aunts and uncles had a big surprise for Grams. My parents were going to pick me up from my $5.75/hr gig at a nursing home, then drop me off at home and head out of town.
As I was getting out of their minivan at home, I slid the sliding door shut on my finger. And better yet, it was locked, so I couldn’t immediately removed my jammed finger.
Once loose from the jaws of the minivan door, my finger was throbbing and swollen, but not broken. Mom & Dad were on a strict time frame, so Dad kissed it, told me I’d be fine, and they trucked off.
I called Dad at Grandma’s house six hours later to tell him goodbye, because I was going to kill myself from the pain. The nail was purplish black, as was the skin underneath. The throbbing was unbearable. Dad said if I went to the hospital, they’d drill a hole into the nail and release the pressure of the blood underneath of it so it would stop throbbing. He told me they’d come home first thing in the morning to take me.
I couldn’t wait that long. I went out to my dad’s tool shed, found a drill bit and a drill, and very slowly, very carefully, drilled a hole about 1/4" in diameter into the nail.
The rush of blood pouring out was a feeling matched only by multiple orgasms. I felt SO much better. When mom and dad came home the next morning, mom was so appalled that I had DRILLED A HOLE IN MY FINGERNAIL with NO ADULT SUPERVISION that she nearly fainted. Dad wrapped his arms around my shoulders and said, “that’s my girl.”
There’s still an indentation on that spot on my thumbnail, despite the incident having been nearly nine years ago.