It has been a month.

It has been a month since the event happened when I collided with the edge of my bed.  This event was exacerbated by the pitch-black forest without a lick of light, occurring in the wee hours of the night. The main event featured a jousting match between the foot of my wooden bed and the 5th metatarsal of my left foot.

Since this disastrous event, the edge of my foot has gone from sore, to being worryingly achy.

I have transitioned my mentality on the matter, over the course of the month, from, “Wow, that was painful, but I’m sure it’ll get better,” to “Dude, why does my foot still hurt?? Did I actually break my foot and not know it?!!”

I had to make a major life decision last night, after I found myself shifting off of my left foot while I was baking garlic chicken, and putting together the sides of coleslaw and homemade potato and leek soup.

Even though coleslaw is a warm weather side, and potato leek soup is a cold weather side…I couldn’t decide, in the precipice of spring, which would be more appropriate for the weather.

And, yes, I plan my meals based on the weather. Don’t you?

The coleslaw turned out wonderful, as always. I keep it rather uncomplicated and simply slice thin a whole head of cabbage and mix with coleslaw dressing. I avoid complications such as shredded carrots, and especially crushed pineapple. I have found those sweet flavors very difficult to pair with my meals, and that we actually enjoy the raw cabbage flavor much more without them.

Fortunately, the potato and leek soup turned out as fantastically as you would imagine. It is a lovely, simple soup which is suitable as a side dish; but definitely not as a main course. The impending monsoon of carbohydrates, infused with umami sautéd leeks, will be the ruin of you; to the delight of the comfort of your couch.

All this being said, my foot did not fare as well as my meal.

It was quite sore by the end of my kitchen adventures, and in a very particular spot.

A spot, in particular, which had a purple spot upon it.

I could not avoid this ache any longer: After a month of soreness, I had to come to the conclusion that the jousting event my foot had participated in, most likely resulted in more damage than I realized.

Only one thing could be done about this.

I have to visit Urgent Care and X-ray the darn thing.

 

Off I went, after my morning coffee, to the recesses of the mostly empty Urgent Care ward. There was a young lady with an upper respiratory infection, and another young lady who sat with us in the waiting room. We watched Family Guy together on the available television, interspersed with drug commercials urging us to not kill ourselves. Especially not in a canoe, which every actress seemed to enjoy a little more than any person ever has in the entire history of canoeing.

I finally was released into the second waiting room, where my vitals were taken, and I informed them that I am not an alcoholic, and I am not breastfeeding.

After another brief waiting period, Thomas* took me back to the radiology wing. We positioned my foot into sultry poses, first on its side, then flat on the mat, for Thomas* to take X-rays of my injured foot.

Authentic picture of injured foot.

Thomas* said, very professionally, as he walked me back to the second waiting room:

“Okay, I’m going to send the X-rays to the radiologist, and he will see if there is a fracture in the bone. It should take about 2 minutes.”

Right-O, Thomas*.

I waited. And waited. I waited with great anticipa….

I didn’t have to wait too long, because Janice*, a doctor, came in to tell me the big news.

I did not have a fractured 5th metatarsal.

The relief which overwhelmed my soul was like a British meal.

It was rather satisfying, but hardly the life-changing experience I would have preferred.

“You definitely whacked the daylights out of your foot, and you have a bad sprain on the tendons. That is going to be sore for longer than you expect. But you should be fine.”

Janice* handed me a 5 page pamphlet on the horrors of tendon sprains, and was sent on my merry way to finish some errands at the Library and hardware store; since I was down the block already.

This experience has been anti-climactic, and my life, as well as those around me, has not changed or been impacted in anyway throughout this ordeal, and hardly because of it.

If anything, I feel better knowing that I have adamantium laden bones.

So, I got that goin’ for me.

 

*names changed for the sanctity of the doctors; and if they have to conform to HIPPA, it seems only fair to extend the same jurisdictions on here.