I never thought I’d be so excited about wearing shoes. And socks! Turns out a whole week of not being able to wear anything other than flip-flops is nearly more than I can take. Mostly it was going a week without being able to run (or go to the gym for any reason, including zumba, because working out in flip-flops is not recommended) that was bothering me. I was doing so well and working out so consistently! Didn’t want to lose my momentum.
Why couldn’t I wear shoes? That’s what happens when you have a violent encounter with a cabinet. You lose (painfully) the toenail off your left big toe, and since it hurts so goddamn much, you can’t wear shoes. That’s what happened to me last Saturday night. I was in an unfamiliar hotel room, it was pitch black, I was trying to find my way to the bathroom, and boom: cabinet, toe, toenail askew, lots of profanity. It was the middle of the night, though, so I continued on my way to the bathroom and back to bed and sleep (despite the throbbing). It wasn’t until I got up the next morning that I actually looked at my toe (and the barely attached nail) and grossed myself out. (And you just now, I’m sure. Sorry.) I’ll spare you the pictures (because I did take pictures). Emily and Molly, my angels, went to a nearby drugstore and bought me some bandages and a pair of flip-flops (I didn’t have a single pair of completely open-toe shoes with me), and I patched myself up (mostly rinsing and covering) enough to get home. Or to get to Urgent Care. I went there first after 5 hours on the road (it was supposed to be a three-hour trip – this was not a good day). The Urgent Care people, thankfully, were really nice. They numbed my toe and removed my nail the rest of the way and sent it home with me. I almost didn’t take it, but I figured I’d have to show John (who was appropriately creeped out that I thought he’d want to see my detached toenail. But he totally did.). Don’t worry, people – I threw it away the next day. No one who comes to visit has to worry about mutant red-painted toenails crawling towards their feet.
My toe didn’t really hurt anymore by Friday, so that morning I tried to go for a run. I didn’t get past putting on socks. Socks are tight! Did you ever think about that? Too much pressure. So I didn’t run on Friday. Saturday was yard-work day, so I had the brilliant idea of borrowing John’s very large socks. No pressure, I was able to put on shoes, and (lucky me) I was able to help with the weeding and mulching. With that success behind me, I put on my own socks today, waited out the uncomfortable pressure for a few minutes, added my shoes, and out for a run I went. I am back. Thank goodness. I was getting tired of flip-flops at work every day. Everyone could hear me coming.