Prodigally. Fluently. Creatively.
When it hurts a lot, I just make a sort of "Ehnnnggaaaahhh" noise
Today, because I know how to have fun, I stepped on a needle. It was large, but there's no such thing as a small needle when it's going through your foot.
It went straight through the ball of my foot, between two bones (thank FSM for that), and tented the skin on top of my foot, just north of the second and third toe space.
The going-through wasn't as bad as the tenting, and the tenting wasn't as bad as the pulling-out. Like babies and bad oysters, that sonofabitch hurt more coming out than going in. But, after I'd made the requisite "Ehnnnggaaahh" noise and sat down heavily on the side of the bed, there was nothing for it but to pull the damned thing out.
[My earliest memory is of looking through the French doors into the dining room of The Old House at my father as my mother rushed me upstairs. Seems I'd stepped on a needle at whatever age it was (two? Three?) and the needle had gone into the bone of my heel. I have vague memories of watching her pull it out as I sat on her lap in the rocking chair, but the strongest memory is of Dad looking up from his desk in the dining room (which was then his study) and seeing his face go slack.]
This was not that bad. In fact, the worst part of it was momentarily feeling the lump in my skin where the needle eye wanted to break through (because I had, of course, stepped on the thing wrong-end-up). Chef Boy was right there, grabbing my arm and keeping me from becoming hysterical. Bravo, Chef Boy.
So, after a moment for contemplation of the possibilities, off I went to see my friendly neighborhood Doc-In-A-Box. The MD entered the room with the words, "How's the seamstress today?"
Everybody's a comedian.
I have a tetanus shot in my left shoulder and 500 milligrams of Keflex to put in my belly thrice daily, as it would be a bad thing (as the MD pointed out) to get an abscess in my foot just before Christmas. Silly me, I thought an abscess was a bad thing at any time.
I also have about 300 ml. of Pommery POP champagne in my belly. Yes, it's only 13:24. Yes, it's a weekday. But dammit, I finished my Christmas shopping after getting a tetanus shot and stepping on a needle; I'll be damned if I face the rest of the day without help.