Pain, thou art amidst me like a good old fashioned case of the Syphilis.
Hi. My names Kris and I dropped a pallet on my foot late last week. I know what you’re thinking.. what a fricking loser and I get it. I mean whom mishandles a pallet?! I should have my head examined but instead let’s examine my foot.
Pretty nasty, no? That was at the peak of its ugliness though the throbbing pain doth continue, now into day 10. Original xrays showed no sign of fractures, though I’ve learned via “the Google machine” that a second xray is recommended as there was way more swelling with the original one and a fracture could have been missed. So I’m at my doc’s. My ridiculous doc’s but that’s another story.
Ahh, boy. The things we take for granted. Take walking, for example. Fluidly getting from A to B. I haven’t been able to get from J to K without struggle this past week. Or wear shoes. Ice and elevation. Elevation and ice. Elevator ice cream cones.
And how difficult is something as theoretically simple as getting lots of rest? If I was without a day job, kids, responsibilities and the like, then sure doctor, I will do that. I’ll do nothing but rest. The boob tube and me. Besties. E’rthing else, be gone.
At the moment, I sit seated in emergency at the hospital. My dear doctress thinks it is infected and quite possibly actually fractured. Who knew. Scenes of Dances With Wolves flash through my mind of Lieutenant John J. Dunbar needing his foot removed in the first few scenes of the sprawling classic. I imagine soon I’ll be gripping the doctor in a bear hug of sorts, while whispering, like a mantra, “Please don’t take my foot. Please don’t take my foot.”
Alas, I just need relief. Soccer league is on hold and my figure skating career will have to wait, also. Breakdancing and jujitsu may have to be on the cancellation list as well. But I’m keeping my ballet lesson, people!!!
So it indeed was infected and I received a nice little gash from whence the kind doctor squeezed with all his might, as tho popping the worlds largest zit. From it, he garnered 5 cc’s of infecty pus, meanwhile I’m passing out, hootin’ n hollarin’ like nobodies beeswax. They gave me a set of crutches and a take-home IV as parting gifts. Feels good to be alive.