I was playing pickup basketball at a rec center, running up the court with my foot slamming on the floor with every step. The lower half of my leg was throbbing from the pain in my right big toe. My shoes were a half-size too big and my foot was sliding around inside. Someone passes me the ball. When I drove to the basket, I got contested and stopped hard on my bad foot. My foot slid inside my shoe and my toe smashed into the front. The pain traveled from my toe to my knee. I lost my balance and passed the ball out before I fell on the floor. The pain has gone on too long, and I can’t deal with it by myself anymore.

At the start of seventh grade, I felt the pain starting in my toe. I knew it was an ingrown nail because of the soreness and the redness that was beginning around the affected area. I would only feel it while walking. I could still do everything normally. I thought that it would go away. I didn’t tell anyone about this. I wish I had told my mom. We could have taken care of it early and it would have never had a chance to get worse.

A month passed and it was still there. I started getting worried because it was only getting worse with time. I was halfway through my seventh-grade year and the pain began to inconvenience me throughout the day. Right before English class, someone stumbled backward and stepped on my toe. The bottoms of their shoes felt like they had spikes on the bottom digging into my foot. I felt the blood exit my toe and soak into the thick socks I was wearing. I limped to the teacher's desk and asked if I could go to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I went to the stall and took my shoe and sock to find material from my sock mixed with my blood stuck to the corner of my toenail.

Two months later, the pain was still going strong but seemed to have slowed down a little bit. I decided that I had to tell my mom so we could start doing something about it. She was disappointed that I didn’t tell her earlier. We started doing everything we could to stop it. Once, my mom thought that if I iced my toe and she poked a hole in it with a need it would relieve the pressure. It did nothing, it just hurt, and the ice didn’t help at all. We saw the doctor and she said it wasn’t that bad and all I needed to do was to soak it in warm water and it’ll be fine. 

Start of the summer, my family, and I went on a cruise from Florida to Mexico to Honduras. On the cruise, we would walk all the time which was hard on my foot. While on the cruise, my toe started to get worse again. I had no time to take care of my foot because we were constantly doing something. At one of our stops, we went to the beach. I was worried about the sand worsening my infection so I tried to avoid it. Eventually, I gave up and walked in the sand normally. When we got back to the boat, there was sand all over my wound and there was now a new pain.

It was time for 8th grade to start. There was no chance of saving my foot myself. I needed surgery badly. My mom and I would start looking online for a place to get operated on. I was extremely nervous about this. One of my mom's friends told me that getting this surgery was one of the best things she’s done, she also got to a point where she couldn’t save herself. I haven’t been out of pain in almost one year and it was all about to end after this surgery.

My mom and I have known I needed surgery since the beginning of 8th grade, but we waited until the middle of the school year. We waited because I was scared that surgery would hurt so I tried to distract my family from it.

 It was finally time for the surgery. I was only in school for the first half. After lunch, my dad picked me up and we drove to the doctor. We parked outside the building. Right behind the front door, stairs were heading down. The building was confusing, multiple other businesses were operating inside this building so my parents and I wandered the halls searching for the right room. 

We found the right room. They had us wait for around an hour, giving me time to think about what I was about to go through. At any time I could be called up. I just sat, thinking and being nervous. A man called us in. He was the one who would be operating. We went to his office and I sat down on the examination table. I lay while he assessed my infection. According to him, it was pretty bad. He told me a story about a woman who came in for the same operation as me and made them use no anesthesia. She didn’t flinch or say anything the whole time.

He needed to numb my toes for the surgery. The surgery entailed the doctor cutting a part of my toe and cutting out the infected nail. These needles might have been the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. He started with my right foot. I don’t know how many times he poked with the needle. I know it did some on the top of my toe and some on the bottom. The ones on the bottom were much worse. I could feel the metal deep inside my toe, it was like it was stabbing my bone. My dad was to my left holding my hand while my foot screamed with pain. I looked at the ceiling trying not to move and just trying to focus on other things. He did some testing by touching my toe and telling me if I felt it and I didn’t.

 Now it was time for the other toe. He started with the top and then the bottom. He did the test to see if I could still feel any pain. I could. He jabbed the needle again, checking again and I could still feel it. Again, he checked and I could still feel it. One more time and it finally worked. He tried to make jokes throughout the whole thing, but it was hard to laugh when I was just pierced by a needle five times on one toe.

The hardest part was over, now I needed to lay there and be still. He did something to my toe and said, “I know the anesthesia worked because if it didn’t you’d be screaming right now,” That did not help calm me down. I just lay and stared at the ceiling. He took out part of the nail on my left toe. He asked my parents if they wanted to see it. My dad did not but my mom was curious and she looked at it. I looked over to see it. I saw the doctor with tweezers holding a piece of my nail covered in blood. 

For the rest of the time, I just looked up at the ceiling and held my dad’s hand. I just tried not to pay attention. I was scared to move, I thought if I did, I might mess the doctor up. When he finished, I was relieved it was over, but was worried about what this was going to feel when the anesthesia wore off. He bandaged me up and we were good to go home.

Walking back up the stairs was weird. Walking in general was weird. It felt as if my big toes were just gone. It was hard to balance. With a new lesion in my foot, it couldn’t hold much weight. We exited the building, got into my dad’s car, and drove home. When we got home, I looked at the basketball hoop in the driveway, knowing it might be a while until I played again. A little blood was soaking through my bandage.

It wasn’t long until my feeling returned to my toe. I was sore, but it wasn’t terrible. I could still walk, but I needed a little longer until I could run. That year of pain was all done in a few hours. The few hours were more like a week of healing from the surgery until it stopped being sore.

Once in a while, I get another ingrown toenail and I treat it fast and they don’t last more than a week. From this experience, I learned that even seemingly small issues should be taken care of because they might get worse and end up costing you a lot.