Yesterday evening, I smashed my finger in my brother’s front door.

It was my left ring finger – or, rather, just the tip of it, as I managed to close his heavy metal door right on the middle of my nail.

I’ve broken fingers more times than I can count, mostly during my years of wrestling and competitive fighting. But, back then, I always managed to break or fracture well up towards the first knuckle, between the MCP and PIP joints.

And while that hurts, it’s nothing, nothing compared to smashing the hell out of your nailbed.

Or at least that’s how it seems to me now. Which could either mean that it really is much more painful. Or, conversely, that I’ve turned into a total pussy in the intervening years.