It was only tender when I stepped directly on the spot so I just learned to live with it. Because what was my other option? To go see a doctor or something? That would be inconvenient. So I just developed a new stride that avoided actually applying any pressure to the upper right half of my heel and went about my business. Easy enough and now I had swagger.
Last week Nick was looking at it and mentioned that it looked infected, and since infections and pregnancy go together like flowers and a tombstone I decided to call my friend L.L. Cool Foot the podiatrist to get it taken care of.
"Now, I'm just going to tell you - this is going to hurt," he said, jabbing a forearm sized needle into my heel.
He was right, but I'd had worse.
For 20 minutes he cut and pulled and dug and cut and pulled and dug and once it was finally out he put it in a little jar of fluid where it happily bobbed up and down.
"Can I see it?" I asked, sweaty and smiley and breathless. After all that work I wanted to see what had been gestating in my body for the past three years.
I held it in my arms and it looked back at me - a cute little fleshy bloody mass. I could tell by the way it just floated around all lazy like it was definitely a boy.
As he applied the dressing he said, "You're really a bleeder!" I looked down and noticed a beach towel soaked in blood. "You're probably going to bleed through this by tonight. Just get some clean gauze and have Nick re-wrap it. Keep it wrapped up until Friday, then we can take a look at it."
What? Keep it on until Friday? I was expecting a little Snoopy band-aid. "Can I shower with it?"
"No, keep it dry. You'll have to put a bag around it. Oh, and here's a special shoe for you to wear."
Special shoe? What the...
"And, for pain meds..."
Hold the presses. Pain meds! My FAVORITE!!! Things suddenly took a turn for the better. I felt the drool drip out of the corner of my mouth.
"...I'd like you to call your O.B. and see what he says is okay."
Ooooh! I like the little blue ones! No no wait... the little round white ones! I felt like a kid at Christmas. I paged J.T. my Trusty O.B. the minute I got to the parking lot.
"You can take either Fioricet or Vicodin," J.T. told me as I tried to contain my excitement and stay on the road. "But I'd go with the Vicodin. It'll help you write more interesting blogs."
I agreed.
You know, the funny thing about pain meds is that when your doctor prescribes them it usually means you'll be in a lot of pain.
Later that night my bandage looked like a maxi pad and as Nick was changing it I mentioned that my heel was still numb.
"Take that as a blessing," he said, squinting and holding my foot up to the light.
"Is it bad? I mean, does it look like it will hurt later?"
"Yes."
"Don't sugar coat it - I can take it. Does it look like it's going to be painful?"
"Yes."
"You can tell me either way."
He was right. Around 5am the feeling started to come back and it felt as if someone had been digging for dinosaur bones in my heel. Lucky for me I had my little buddies to take the edge off.
So the down side of this whole thing is that I have to use my butt cheeks as grippers in order to carry Lila up and down the stairs. Also I know myself, and I'm positive that I will find the bag on the foot thing to be entirely too inconvenient and will probably just avoid showering altogether.
But the up side is that we had M&M pancakes with chocolate sauce glitter fairies and Cheetos for breakfast this morning and have been listening to Magic Carpet Ride for close to six hours straight.
It's really a give and take.
I tried to take a pic of my awesome new walking boot but it turned out really blurry - I had to take it like the wind because Lila is about to make a break for the Stairs of Freedom and Ellie is calling the Philippines for phone sex.
Again.
5 comments:
OK ouch that hurt me just the thought of them digging it out.. hope you heal quick hun
No pressure. But your shit better be right by girls trip in 9 days.
Am I reading this right - you walked around with the glass in your foot for 3 days or was it 3 years - must be the drugs
I had an ingrown toe nail story kind of similar to this. Basically, I refused to wear anything but tennis shoes for fear someone would see my disgusting toe. Finally, I was in a wedding and was forced to wear cute shoes. A podiatrist was also a bridesmaid, saw my gross toe and offered to fix it up, free of charge, the day after the wedding. Wow, I really had to use that lamaze breathing when she put the needles in to numb it.
During said 6 hours of Magic Carpet Ride, did you jump around like a crazy Lamda Chi?
Yes, it was three years. Like I said, it only hurt when I stepped directly on it so I just learned to live with it. Sort of like my phobia of people touching my eye - it's too much trouble to deal with so I just wear the same glasses for like 10 years. And there was faux jumping during Magic Carpet Ride - I can't really put much pressure on it yet so I just sort of wave my arms back and forth trying to catch the gremlins coming down from the ceiling.
Post a Comment