How long do you think it had been there? It was a line, a cut, a fissure, a crack, a crevice, a gash badly healed, roughly scarred. You should have noticed it a long time ago. Why didn't you? Yes, yes, too busy, I know.
Anyway, somehow, it ended up on your list of things to do. You took a look and saw a splinter - which is weird because aren't our bodies supposed to reject those eventually? Maybe that's how it ended up on the to do list. You got a tool to dig it out. It hurt. It took your breath away.
Splinter in hand, you held it up to the light. And then you did what should always be done in these cases.
You incinerated it. You watched it go up in smoke, the glow of bile green blinding your eyes that were already closed. When you opened them, there were no ashes to be sprinkled.