Steel-Toed Boots

We have a running joke in our family about wearing steel-toed boots. Not because we want to work in construction, but because we can sometimes tend to bang our toes around on household objects...some of which may have not moved position in years. I've done pretty well with this unfortunate genetic imposition throughout the years, only harboring the occasional stub here and there. That is until Wednesday evening.

We live in tight quarters here. Our furniture is not placed in a sprawling living or dining room. In fact, our living and dining room are one in the same. To pass into our kitchen, you must walk between our table and a small couch. I had our computer perched on the end of table closest to the kitchen entrance because I was cooking a recipe that was in metric units and I had to google all the conversions. In addition, I made the fatal mistake of pulling out the chair to get a better view of the screen. You may recall that Wednesday was the BIGGEST GAME IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, and I was in a flurry to prepare dinner and get my Manchester United war paint and red shirt on. I didn't push the chair back in, and in one flash of a moment, upon leaving the kitchen, I whacked my right pinky toe on the chair leg. It hurt like a son of a.... But I kept going, adrenalin pumping, nothing was going to take my excitement away. I was hoping the pain would subside, but it didn't. The bottom of the toe went numb and I couldn't walk on it.

When I awoke the next morning to a swollen and bruised toe, I decided evasive action was needed. I was in no position to drive (you kind of need a fully functioning right foot to do that) so Edgar "worked from home" and took me to a minor injury walk in clinic. This was our biggest experience yet with the NHS (National Healthcare System), apart from small visits to gain antibiotics for bronchitis. I was kind of nervous because I've heard horror stories when you allow the government to govern and manage your healthcare. But I have to say, it was a very clean, sterile, streamlined experience. We waited about an hour to see the nurse practitioner, who decided an xray was needed due to the fact that my toe was awkwardly pointing out and to the side. We waited about 10 minutes for the xray, which showed a clean break in the top joint of the toe. Only a tiny thread of bone was still attached. The good news was that it wasn't dislocated. The prospect of the NP having to not only touch the toe, but pop it back into place brought tears to my eyes. No, it really did. I started crying right there in the exam room when he told me he might have to do it. Luckily, Edgar was there to sing me songs and keep me distracted until we found out it wasn't dislocated.

So now I am icing 3 times a day for 20 minutes. My pinky toe and the one next to it are taped together so that there will be limited mobility. I'm keeping it elevated and walking around as little as possible, so hopefully it will begin to heal very soon. I hate not being fully mobile, especially when my entire lifestyle revolves around walking for everything. I guess one good thing about it all is that it has forced me to sit still long enough to plan our upcoming trips. And maybe I'll finally finish that book I started a week ago.

I would like to thank my wonderful husband for taking off work all day long to take care of me. He brought me some really great surprises when he returned from the pharmacy run with ibuprofen and tape: 3 beautiful stems of lillies and my favorite gelato! Thanks, Babe! You're the best!!!