Anyway, about a month ago my left foot started to hurt. Always. No matter what. Throbbing, painful, left foot. I almost became a doctor when I was in college, so I knew just what to do. I googled it.
Me: I googled my foot and guess what?!?
James: You have bunions.
Me: Yeah, but guess what else?!?
James: I give up.
Me: I have bursitis!
James: No you don't.
Me: I do. I have bursitis and I'm going to the foot doctor tomorrow and they're probably going to give me a cane and I'M LIKE MY OWN FREAKING EPISODE OF "HOUSE" RIGHT NOW!
James: You don't have bursitis.
Me: You're so jealous ...
Anyway, I went to the doctor and told them about my bursitis and asked them for a cane so I could be my own episode of "House" but they said no and instead, they chopped up my foot while I was sleeping:
I'm sorry about this creepy picture of my creepy foot, but look at it this way: at least it's not your creepy foot.
My bunion and I had actually become friends. I named him "Kuato" and sometimes, when I was falling asleep, I could hear him underneath the covers whispering ,"Quaaaaaaid......Quaaaaaaid." So, you know, I was sad that we had to murder him. However, I'm pretty pleased with Frankenfoot so far...
...except for the part about the crutches.
So...I got my crutches and I was all, "Meh...crutches, smutches...who needs two feet? I'm like a ninja anyway. I'll be vaulting over brick walls and using these as weapons before you can blink"...
And then I tried my crutches and it turns out I'm terrible on them. Like - really bad. I just keep tripping over stuff and falling on stuff and losing my balance. Also, when your hands are all pre-occupied trying to work your crutches, then they become pretty much useless, too. So basically, surgery on your foot = no hands and only one good foot, and it's only a good foot if it doesn't try and trip you all of the time...which mine does....so basically, I'm just a torso on stilts right now.
Showering is dangerous and I can only shower while someone else is in the house with me, because chances are pretty good that I will fall and break something....like myself. This week our local cell phone tower went down, so I can't call anyone...including my husband to find out when he will be home so I can shower safely. I also can't work from home, which was the plan for this week, but no longer works when you don't have access to a phone.
Stairs have taken me out three times so far.
I don't think stairs are done with me yet.
My nerves are a little frazzled.
On the way to my doctor's appointment today, I heard a song that I decided was about putting your dog to sleep and started crying hysterically.
It was a CD and I immediately ejected it and threw it out the window.
And by "threw it out the window", I mean I hit repeat. All the way to the doctor's office, because ...
...I have no idea why, I'm like a crazy person these days.
Did I mention that I hadn't showered?
Did I mention that I'm allergic to everything? It's true. Including the sticky stuff that's on the heart monitors that they use when you go in for surgery to have your foot mutilated.
My entire torso looks like chicken pox. Chicken pox torso on stilts.
Also, I get really blotchy when I get emotional and I fidget with my hair.
Smelly chicken pox torso on stilts with a bird's nest head.
By the time I walked into the reception area at the doctor's office, I was this:
It's my turn to see the doctor.
Anyway, my point is this: The doctor may be able to take your Kuato and your bursitis and your imaginary cane and your freedom but as long as he gives you some rather strong pain pills then I love you...and cake...and flying bunnies...and puppies...look!
...the clouds are shaped like my toes...
...like clouds....not clowns...
....I like wafffles....