I have a broken toe. I have never had a broken bone before. Well, not officially. I suspect that I broke my tail bone in the 70's during a fall at the roller skating rink but I never went to the doctor because modesty prevented me from allowing my butt to be X-rayed. I haven't been to see a doctor yet about my toe either because it will most likely result in a 3-4 hour wait to see a doctor who may or may not X-ray the swollen digit, announce that it is in fact broken and then send me home with a prescription of Motrin.
I already have Motrin.
How did I break my toe? It doesn't get stupider than this. I have 7 steps leading down to the lower level of my house. I lost count at 6 and anticipated solid ground under my next step forward. Nothing but air. Being the graceful person I am I quickly regained my balance and landed in a perfect pirouette on my left big toe.
My left big toe is now bigger. And its purple and black and red. I can't raise it up or wiggle it. It just sits there as I strain to get my toe muscles to respond to my commands.
I don't think Dickidoo is taking my injury seriously. He didn't even examine it. Mostly he just laughed at me. He had one of the Oompas get me some ice to put on my toe. The weight of the ice made me howl but the cold was soothing. I hobbled to bed under the influence of Tylenol PM.
I woke to Dickidoo's persistent kicking against my leg. I glanced at the alarm clock... 4:44 am.
4:44! I was supposed to be at work 44 minutes ago!
I jumped out of bed, landed on my feet. Then I landed on my butt as my toe and my mouth screamed out in pain simultaneously. I immediately recalled my injury from the night before.
I dressed quickly in the dark, ran out to the hall bathroom, turned on the light, realized that my Mickey Mouse tee shirt and stained jeans would never pass the dress code, hobbled back into the bedroom and redressed in the dark again. Back in the bathroom I decided that my black polo shirt and faded jeans were close enough to code, slapped on some face spackle and hopped as fast as I could to the foyer. I tried one pair of shoes, used up a couple of my 'Cuss & Fuss For Free' coupons that Rocky had given me for Mother's Day, tried on another pair of shoes, used a couple more Cuss Coupons, and settled for my clogs.
Even injured and running late I found the time to make a pot of coffee.
10 minutes later I was clocking in at work.
Hop A-Long, Gimpy, Weeble Wobble... Co-workers are always so quick to supply new nick names at one's expense. One of my friends went home and returned with a pair of fur trimmed forest green velvet house slippers. Ahhhh!
Its hard to be inconspicuous when wearing fur trimmed forest green velvet house slippers in the back rooms of the warehouse, limping like the Hunched Back of Notre Dame. Fortunately today and tomorrow are my days off. I'm supposed to go hiking with Becca this afternoon. That's not going to happen. I'm not sure how camping this weekend will work out either. We'll have to see how my foot feels by Friday.
I am all out of Cuss And Fuss Coupons.... This is proving to be an expensive injury.
3 DAYS AND A WAKE-UP!
(A broken toe won't slow down a mother greeting her son home from Iraq!)
(edited... I lost track, its only 3 days and a wake up! Woo Hoo!)