(picture from my first toe debacle)So, this post is a little graphic, in the please don't eat your snack while reading this. I'm queasy (Is that a word? Did I spell it correctly? It looks funny) that way. I remember vividly the lesson I learned while producing a show once. Never put up gross medical pictures during the noon news. Most people are eating lunch. Any who...lets move on, shall we.
Flashback...August of 2008.
I'm finally fed up with the intense toe pain I've been feeling for a good four months now. I am done. I am through. I can no longer wear high heels to church and what is the point of going if I can't wear them? Tee-hee. Okay. I didn't know what I was expecting but I most certainly wasn't expecting the three needle jabs into my un-cushiony big toe (right foot, for those of you craving all the gory details). The pain of which, I like to describe as exquisite. The kind of pain that hurts so much it's almost pretty, the kind that makes poets excited. Well, after that, I got to feel a pleasant tugging and pulling as they removed a chunk of toe nail.
After it was all done, I hobbled out to my car, shed a few tears, almost certainly ate some sort of junk food and carried on with my life.
Fast Forward to today....
I woke up with a pit in my stomach, arrived to yet another toe appointment an hour early, because I'm nervous. And yes, instead of healing properly a ball of scared tissue formed, once again, making it impossible to wear my high heels. Without that motivation, I think I would have put this off a few more months.
Anyway, lets repeat the above process. The doctor kept asking me what I was doing this weekend while jabbing the needle in my toe. Seriously, he asked my five times. I wanted to scream that I am trying not to scream and that I want to die this weekend. The operation was a success, until I get home. It is important to note that my toe is bandaged to five times it's normal size.
When I try to get inside my house while holding Jared and holding the door open for Gracie I try to flick my roomy sandal off. Well, they don't make sandals that roomy. My bandage flew off my foot and landed dead center underneath the car. Gracie looked at my foot and started to wail. I looked at the bloody mess and couldn't feel it, or move it as it was still numb. I patted Gracie's head and in a brave voice told her that we need to be brave when we get big owies and walked inside my house like it was a normal day. Had I an emotion in my toe I would've wailed along side her. As it is I still can't feel my toe and don't know if I ever will again.
But I feel fairly positive that in four week from now I should be able to wear my green leather wedges. I think it will be worth it. Maybe.
Flashback...August of 2008.
I'm finally fed up with the intense toe pain I've been feeling for a good four months now. I am done. I am through. I can no longer wear high heels to church and what is the point of going if I can't wear them? Tee-hee. Okay. I didn't know what I was expecting but I most certainly wasn't expecting the three needle jabs into my un-cushiony big toe (right foot, for those of you craving all the gory details). The pain of which, I like to describe as exquisite. The kind of pain that hurts so much it's almost pretty, the kind that makes poets excited. Well, after that, I got to feel a pleasant tugging and pulling as they removed a chunk of toe nail.
After it was all done, I hobbled out to my car, shed a few tears, almost certainly ate some sort of junk food and carried on with my life.
Fast Forward to today....
I woke up with a pit in my stomach, arrived to yet another toe appointment an hour early, because I'm nervous. And yes, instead of healing properly a ball of scared tissue formed, once again, making it impossible to wear my high heels. Without that motivation, I think I would have put this off a few more months.
Anyway, lets repeat the above process. The doctor kept asking me what I was doing this weekend while jabbing the needle in my toe. Seriously, he asked my five times. I wanted to scream that I am trying not to scream and that I want to die this weekend. The operation was a success, until I get home. It is important to note that my toe is bandaged to five times it's normal size.
When I try to get inside my house while holding Jared and holding the door open for Gracie I try to flick my roomy sandal off. Well, they don't make sandals that roomy. My bandage flew off my foot and landed dead center underneath the car. Gracie looked at my foot and started to wail. I looked at the bloody mess and couldn't feel it, or move it as it was still numb. I patted Gracie's head and in a brave voice told her that we need to be brave when we get big owies and walked inside my house like it was a normal day. Had I an emotion in my toe I would've wailed along side her. As it is I still can't feel my toe and don't know if I ever will again.
But I feel fairly positive that in four week from now I should be able to wear my green leather wedges. I think it will be worth it. Maybe.
This morning we woke up to four inches of snow. Jared found this particularly annoying, especially since we've been going to extreme efforts to invite sunnier days into our lives. 
We baked a pink cake. Dear April, how can you say no to a cake and a little girl with a squinty eyed smile? 
I even made Jared do his pleading eyes look...April, you must have a cold, cold heart. I'm beginning to think I don't want to have anything to do with you.
Alas, we had to escape to the Southern part of our state, causing us to feel a little unnerved and out of place, sort of like moles stranded on a beach.
And blinded by vast amounts of sun.
I can't think of anything clever for this photo, I just think Gracie looks all bright and smart about dinosaurs. You have a question, she's got the answer.
And... well... same thing for this one. My bright and shiny little boy.
