Picture it.
Sicily, 1983: A beautiful young girl skips down a road on a warm spring evening. Her dainty feet are bare and caressed by the warm breezes. And yet, as fate would have it, she stubs her big toe, cracking the nail and tearing the cuticle. The foot bleeds profusely and despite her best efforts, she finds herself in a emergency room later that evening. The doctor, a handsome faced man with the body of a god, makes a grim determination. It will have to come off - the nail, not the toe. The young girl accepts her fate and the convalescence afterward with amazing grace. The nail grows back, but something is wrong. It grows back crooked and begins to cut into the surrounding flesh, infecting it. Another doctor, this one grizzled with age and full of experience, performs delicate toenail saving surgery and corrects the problem. The girl, now a voluptuous young woman, thanks the surgeon for saving her toenail.
On Ground Hog day - February 2nd for those of you not in the States - while I was ensconced in my favorite rolling office chair, I had the misfortune to roll the chair's wheels - WAIT FOR IT - over my own toe. Yes, I rolled a chair over my toe WHILE I SAT IN THE CHAIR. Do not ask how I did this. The details are sketchy at best for me.
Anyway, when I could breathe again - I didn't mention that I had stopped - I began to shout many appalling things like: MOTHER OF PEARL and HOLY ZARQUAN'S SINGING FISH!! While I was extremely proud of myself for not saying words in front of my young daughter that rhymed with buck and bit - you know the ones - I knew that I had seriously injured myself. After a few minutes more, I was finally able to pull off my shoe and sock. The toe was red and bruising appeared later in the day and I had some mobility so I didn't really worry about it. The pain mostly passed and although the toenail turned blue, I wasn't really worried.
Fast forward a few weeks to this past weekend. I stubbed the same toe and didn't think anymore of it until I took my socks and shoes off before bed. I had a bloody toe. The blood seemed to be coming out from under the nail. I did some basic self care, but the fact remained that the toe was red and the blood just wasn't going to stop by itself.
Yesterday, I went to see a podiatrist who looked remarkably like Dudley Moore when he was in Arthur. He took the nail off. Just like that. Well just like that after he put 3 shots of Novocaine in my big toe and grabbed a big pair of pliers. I've been through this before WITH THE OTHER FOOT. So I know the drill: I have a giant bandage on my toe and I'll have to soak it and change the dressing for a few days.
The thing is, my daughter is becoming quite mobile in the last few days. I need to post the video of her standing up but she's crawling a bit and seems fascinated by my FEET. Yes, including my sore toe.
Under the best of circumstances, I have ugly feet. I now have the joy of having ugly feet minus one toenail.
Sicily, 1983: A beautiful young girl skips down a road on a warm spring evening. Her dainty feet are bare and caressed by the warm breezes. And yet, as fate would have it, she stubs her big toe, cracking the nail and tearing the cuticle. The foot bleeds profusely and despite her best efforts, she finds herself in a emergency room later that evening. The doctor, a handsome faced man with the body of a god, makes a grim determination. It will have to come off - the nail, not the toe. The young girl accepts her fate and the convalescence afterward with amazing grace. The nail grows back, but something is wrong. It grows back crooked and begins to cut into the surrounding flesh, infecting it. Another doctor, this one grizzled with age and full of experience, performs delicate toenail saving surgery and corrects the problem. The girl, now a voluptuous young woman, thanks the surgeon for saving her toenail.
On Ground Hog day - February 2nd for those of you not in the States - while I was ensconced in my favorite rolling office chair, I had the misfortune to roll the chair's wheels - WAIT FOR IT - over my own toe. Yes, I rolled a chair over my toe WHILE I SAT IN THE CHAIR. Do not ask how I did this. The details are sketchy at best for me.
Anyway, when I could breathe again - I didn't mention that I had stopped - I began to shout many appalling things like: MOTHER OF PEARL and HOLY ZARQUAN'S SINGING FISH!! While I was extremely proud of myself for not saying words in front of my young daughter that rhymed with buck and bit - you know the ones - I knew that I had seriously injured myself. After a few minutes more, I was finally able to pull off my shoe and sock. The toe was red and bruising appeared later in the day and I had some mobility so I didn't really worry about it. The pain mostly passed and although the toenail turned blue, I wasn't really worried.
Fast forward a few weeks to this past weekend. I stubbed the same toe and didn't think anymore of it until I took my socks and shoes off before bed. I had a bloody toe. The blood seemed to be coming out from under the nail. I did some basic self care, but the fact remained that the toe was red and the blood just wasn't going to stop by itself.
Yesterday, I went to see a podiatrist who looked remarkably like Dudley Moore when he was in Arthur. He took the nail off. Just like that. Well just like that after he put 3 shots of Novocaine in my big toe and grabbed a big pair of pliers. I've been through this before WITH THE OTHER FOOT. So I know the drill: I have a giant bandage on my toe and I'll have to soak it and change the dressing for a few days.
The thing is, my daughter is becoming quite mobile in the last few days. I need to post the video of her standing up but she's crawling a bit and seems fascinated by my FEET. Yes, including my sore toe.
Under the best of circumstances, I have ugly feet. I now have the joy of having ugly feet minus one toenail.