Warning: Do Not Read If You Are Squeamish
(Seriously, you’ve been warned…)
Our intern, who I will refer to as “Lyle” (although his name really begins with a “K”), decided to give into to juvenile peer pressure and go for a “polar bear” swim on day two of our three day retreat out in the woods. All went well until they came back inside. “Lyle” headed into the bathroom to dry off, slipped on the tile, and caught his big toe under the door. The door acted somewhat in the fashion of a can opener, and pulled back his big toenail until it was in a vertical (ie. sticking straight up) position, which doesn’t work well for wearing shoes or socks (or not being in screaming pain).
Our ever-vigilant techies came up the stairs to let me know that “Lyle” had cut his foot. I suggested that they get him a band-aid. Then our worship pastor came up and asked if I had any pliers. That’s never a good question, so I went down to see what was up. Six hours later (4am), we returned from the wildly overcrowded small-town emergency room, with a fully wrapped and pain-killed “Lyle.” We arrived home the next day, with only two stops to allow “Lyle” to throw up next to the highway from the pain meds.
I hope that we’ve all learned something here…
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