It started the summer I stepped on a piece of wood with rusty nails. It looks like there are six nails in my foot, but only one actually pierced my skin. Still, my poor right foot. Topped off a few days later with one of those infection red lines up the back of my leg. Nice.
Next was the surgery for Plantar Fasciitis. In spite of an extremely successful surgery on my left foot, when it came to my right foot, it was a no go. Sixteen months later, I was still in pain and unable to walk much. I got used to motorized shopping carts and that wasn’t safe for anyone.
Topaz surgery came next. This was in hopes of helping it to start healing. Four months later, I had to admit I was much better. I have pain when I am on my feet too long, but so does everyone else. I credit my Physical Therapy Whisperer for this. She worked with my foot in a way no one else did. So much more effort and it paid off. I reluctantly got discharged from therapy. I was scared to stop going.
Two weeks after that, I am walking in a store. I hit my foot on the corner of two pieces of wood. Can you guess which foot? Yes, the right one. It felt like when you stub your toe, only it was the middle of the top of my foot, right where my sandals didn’t cover me. By the time I got home, it looked like this.
Completely swollen. A giant bump, right above, that’s right. The five small scars from my surgery. Like the word right because it’s my right foot.
Two days later, it looked like this.
This bizarre dark purple outline of my toes and another lovely shade of purple covering the rest of it. (Good thing purple is my favorite color.) It actually didn’t hurt except the third night when it hurt like hell. After that, not really. Freakin’ weird. My therapist told me to get an x-ray. The x-ray says no broken bones, just swollen soft tissue. I’ve had at least two medical people tell me the radiologist is nuts.
My poor right foot. I get embarrassed when someone asks what I did to it. I should make up some ginormous story. People would believe me because it looks hideous.
It is a tradition every summer that I end up in the emergency room or something similar at least once. I have it done already and it’s only the beginning the July so I’ve got that going for me.
Which is kinda nice.