I had most of my kids two week vacation planned. Sunday-Tuesday it would be just the 3 of us so depending on weather I planned movies, cookie baking and a few other ideas. On Wednesday, MIL was supposed to take them for the afternoon so Kasper and I could get last minute items we can’t store in our house because housing is known for major ant infestations among other pests.
Sunday started out great and fine, until lunch. My boys love PB&J and Kasper snacks on spoonfuls of peanut butter so we buy the 40 oz jars. I only have one working arm so I have to improvise a lot of day-to-day actions like opening and closing peanut butter jars. I pinned the jar between my abs and the edge of the counter to screw the lid back on and the next thing I knew, all 40 oz was on the floor and I could suddenly feel my toe next to the left big toe. I don’t usually feel this toe so I knew something was wrong before it clicked that the jar fell onto my foot.
I’ve been fortunate in that since losing my left side due to the stroke, I’ve had very few accidents that resulted in injury. In 2012, I was preparing oil and a flour batter to fry up some chicken tenders for dinner. I tried to close the lid to the garlic powder but it wouldn’t close all the way so I tried to slam it shut. It shot out from under my hand which made me lose balance, causing my left arm to rise up then land directly in the pan. It took a couple seconds for me to register my hand was in the oil. I’ve selected a few of the grossest of those pics:
As you can see, I was focused on the tips of my fingers. The blisters were immediate and what I felt first.
The next morning I was back to not feeling anything on my left hand but I realized the extent of the burns reached beyond the tips of my fingers. It looked as though my left middle finger got the most damage (it must have rested against the bottom of the frying pan).
Day 3 the blisters not only grew, they multiplied. You can barely see them beneath the nails of my other fingers.
On Day 6, I noticed the blisters were gone. The biggest one had popped without my knowing and the others deflated or something because there was wrinkled skin where the blisters were. I didn’t feel them pop or drain or whatever. I feel like this should have been a painful 5 days but it wasn’t beyond that first night, and that first night was baaaad. I felt like a fool in triage or wherever they assess you. I was an adult bent over in my chair, crying with a night crew of male nurses staring at me not understanding what I meant by “I’m not supposed to feel this! Why do I feel it?!” Can you imagine? Not feeling anything in your hand for over a year and then suddenly there’s an explosion of pain radiating from your fingertips to your brain? It was a shock to the nerves in my digits.
Now, 3 years later, I have had another accident and once again the fact that I could feel something may have been more shocking than the injury itself. I totally smashed my toe with that peanut butter and I’ve come to a few realizations in the last 3 or 4 days. First, we must see some gnarly pics of this toe because that’s what life’s about, being totally grossed out by things we really don’t want to see or experience. I only have these two pics from the next day because I really don’t like looking at my own foot right now.
My first reaction was to cry and cry I did! Skas, my lovely boy who was there with me during the strike of my stroke was once again my savior. He retrieved tissues for my tears, a chair for me to sit then stayed by my side until I stopped crying. No mother should cry in front of her kids but this was like the worst table corner bump in the world.
So I’m a huge, sensitive ballsack. Because I’ve never hurt a toe like this I turned to Facebook. Everyone wanted pictures but I was too embarrassed of my feet to post one and then I realized people would probably tell me to go to urgent care. That would be too inconvenient for Kasper because he would miss work and whatever (ah, the life of poor people even with insurance). Google told me only to worry if it was bleeding or the skin around the nail turned gray, none of which was happening so I busted out my cane and I remembered why I fought to drop that thing– it’s very cumbersome. I walked around Monday with the inability to angle my foot so I would keep pressure off that toe; foot drop made this whole experience more painful than it should have been.
By Monday evening I couldn’t walk anymore. Each step made me cry but I still refused medical care. It reminded me of my stubbornness during the stroke and how I refused to call 9-11 myself– I didn’t want to look like a fool for fainting or whatever I thought was happening. And with this toe I knew they wouldn’t do anything but send me home with advice of keeping it propped. Kasper ended up not only carrying me to the bathroom and back but like after the stroke before I knew how to live with a dead left side, he helped me use the bathroom. It was like I forgot how to take care of myself all over again. The first time was understandable, my brain was in shock and didn’t know right from left anymore– I needed a lot of assistance. And here I was letting a toe put me in that same position.
I really tried my best not to be extreme about my pain but, fuck dude, it really hurt. When I’m tense, the toes on my left foot curl and the result is I walk on the tips of my toes, flat footed. I was very anxious about making my injury worse which made my toes curl more and made me walk on the tip of my injured toe, making it swell more with each step.
Tuesday morning Kasper did everything before work for me so while he worked I layed in bed and Skas pretty much took care of JJ alone. I was in so much pain I didn’t even nap in my room and I barely smoked any pot. I could barely sit up because it would cause my stupid toe to send a stinging wave of pain to my head where I had a massive headache. Wednesday morning I felt a lot better but my God did my hip hurt! And I remembered exactly why I fought so hard to get out of that damn wheelchair. Not only do I hate being waited on, having to call people when I need something, I become further crippled by intense hip pain when I don’t move.
The whole damn thing sucks completely. I mean, I can’t even masturbate! I need 4-7 orgasms/week to keep me relaxed. I am too afraid that an orgasm will force my left leg to kick out and push my toe against something. I couldn’t make cookies with the boys so Kasper did it which is nice because, memories. And then last night I showed JJ the cookies and when he backed up, he stepped on my toe. I panicked because I felt the tug his step did to my pant leg. I didn’t feel any pain but thought I would. I looked down hesitantly and blood was everywhere. Apparently the bruise wasn’t just a bruise but a blood filled sack (a bruise, ha!).
The swelling is down, the pressure is gone, there’s very little pain and the nail is already loose. I have a doctor’s visit in two weeks where I’m hoping to be told everything is fine, good job keeping it clean, goodbye. JJ, my accident-prone little turd, totally saved me a trip to the hospital. I’m pretty sure I would have needed to get it drained soon because the swelling was not going down. So I’m thankful for once that my kid does not pay attention to anything but cookies and chocolate. I just need to figure out how to get this foot to my in-laws for Christmas.
I spent one full day in bed with Netflix and I have to say:
I have no idea how people do that on the daily.
It sucks, it’s boring and it just sucks. How do people do that? And without injury! This stupid toe incident has totally reminded me how hard I worked to get to the physical condition I am in today. I forgot how much progress I’ve made in the last 5 years. But I won’t go so far as to say that it’s a blessing in disguise because that’d be a lie so big Cruz or Trump might appreciate it.