My foot is still broken! And may I just say, I had no idea that something as simple as a broken bone could possibly sideline me the way it did. After all, I spent a whole week in a plaster splint/cast thing, right? I should be healed by now.
Well, no, Jenny, why don’t you be realistic for once?
The good news is, I don’t have to have surgery. I’m wearing an air cast and slowly getting back to work. The air cast, by the way, is the most amazing medical technological breakthrough ever. With it on, I can walk around without pain. I can take it off to shower and sleep. I cannot, however, walk around with it off; I thought I’d roll those dice and grudgingly concede that perhaps the doctor knows more about bones than I do. I’ll stick to his instructions and continue periodically elevating it and not walking around like I could have possibly healed a whole broken bone in under two weeks.
There are a few other troubles I’m having, as well. Working for over a year to train for a race only to break your foot two days before that race is shockingly bad for your mental health. Also shockingly bad for your mental health? And I’m not being sarcastic at all this time? Injuring yourself doing something you have to do often in your own house. I have taken two showers since getting the plaster splint off. Both ended in me hyperventilating and crying when it came time to get out because suddenly, it seems so terribly dangerous. As a result, I’ve been bathing with those giant baby wipes they market to adults as “disposable washcloths” and avoiding going out. When I have to drive my daughter to rehearsal, I stay in the car, using my foot as an excuse. Really, I just don’t want them to see that I’m greasy as hell. I’m hoping I get over this somewhat quickly because even though I’m one of those weird people who don’t really smell, I’m always afraid that I smell and that makes my anxiety even worse and basically I’m just a broken nightmare of a person. But you knew that, because you’re here, reading this.
Now, onto the show. Anyone want to see some gross pictures? Awesome. I’m putting them behind the cut, though, because not all of you want to see my gnarly foot. And I’m gonna put a puppy picture first, so that comes up on the social media thumbnail instead:
She was sleeping in the laundry basket and it tipped over, but she kept on sleeping.
My hope for this week on the blog is to get the first chapter of The Business Centaur’s Virgin Temp up on Friday, but again, we’re still playing it fast and loose with the injury and its aftermath. So, stay tuned, if you want to see something gross, click the cut link.
I should also warn you that the bulk of the grossness comes from my toenails. I have REALLY awful, ugly feet and I never show them under normal circumstances.
So, here’s a good look at some of the swelling and bruising a little over a week post-injury:
Here’s the bruising as it progresses. Gotta get worse before it gets better, right?:
But it’s the disparity in size that really tickles me (pardon the foot pun).
So, there it is. My foot injury that doesn’t look like it should be bad enough to have any impact on me at all. But it weirdly does. 2019 is not cracking up to be my year, everybody.