I do renovations and when I'm being an idiot, shit happens. I sliced up my hands on some cheap builders back splash tiles. My fault, I didn't put on thick leather gloves. I usually don't bother, but with cheap tile I should have.
Whatever, my hands sliced up like mortadella turned out to be an interesting project. It's fascinating to watch the scar tissue grow as it fills the voids that once inhabited my hands. Millimeter by millimeter the scars grow as they replace the scabs of blood and puss, to create a perfect seal.
On my right hand's inside smallest finger, the cut is in the shape of an eye and the scar tissue is quickly growing around it. A few days ago it was one and a half inches long and now it's less than a half inch long. I gaze upon it often and marvel at the healing powers of the human body.
Around my wounds there is a slight soreness, but more pronounced when wine is not available. Still, my body is hard at work enclosing my cuts with more durable scar tissue.