Monday, June 16, 2008

Trouble in Phalanges Land

Last week I had some surgery (very minor) on my right big toe. It’s the “Going to market piggy” if you are keeping score at home.

An ingrown toenail had gotten out of control and after moaning about it for a couple days, I decided to hit the local InstaCare and take care of the problem.

I’ve never really much trouble with ingrown toenails, so I might have brought this upon myself with an improper clipping technique. Important safety tip: Straight across the nail, do NOT curve down toward the ends, you are only asking for trouble apparently.

I’ll spare you the blood- and puss-filled details, but you should know that getting the lidocaine shot(s) in my toe was the worst part of that procedure.

Though watching while the doc took a pair of scissors and snipped off the nail from the tip of my numb toe down the cuticle ranks right up there in the realm of “freaky things I wish I’d never seen” (#1 on that list: the shower scene from Fat Camp Video Highlights, 1997)

Anyway, I spent the weekend in bed with my foot propped up and popping pain pills. Yes, I’m still on the pills here at work, in case the you can’t tell from my prose right now.

Also! My throat hurts because on Saturday while putting on a pair of pants, I slipped and knocked my bandaged toe on milk crate in our bedroom. You may think, “You slipped and smacked your wounded toe on a milk crate, why is it that your throat hurts?” Excellent question; my throat hurts because I screamed so loud and for so long that my throat got irritated.

Let this be a lesson to all of you: pants should always be optional.

Really, I screamed like you wouldn’t believe. Really, my throat hurt later because of it.

Here’s the image I’ll leave with you: Me, stoned to the gills on legal opiates, writhing around on the bed where I had fallen after hitting the milk crate dead on with my bandaged toe, right leg up in the air and clutching it at the calf, because I didn’t dare venture touching any closer to my actual toe, pants half on and yelling so loudly that eventually people came from down the street to see if I was OK.

More Also Stuff! Reha and the kids got me a nice hat for Father’s Day and while trying it on, I put my hand in range of the ceiling fan. Luckily, I was hopped up on opiates so I couldn’t really feel that. Though I will say this: the fan was spinning on “high” and when I stuck my hand up there, the blades came to a dead stop. Very cool. Except for the part where my hand instantly swelled up to the size of a catcher’s mitt. That wasn’t very cool.

And Even More from the Also Category! I went back to the InstaCare doctor on Saturday, because I was basically out of pain pills and my little milk crate incident had caused the toe to bleed and ooze through the 17 layers of bandages and I wanted to have it checked out. (OK, mostly I wanted more pain pills, but that’s not the important part of the story.)

The important part of the re-visit to the doc was that while the nurse was re-bandaging my toe she pressed down on it and I may have let slip something along the lines of: “Oh! Oh, please stop touching my toe.” I may have kind of yelled this with a strong emphasis on the “oh” part that made me sound like a very “fancy” lad. Maybe. I admit nothing.

Reha about busted a gut laughing at that point. “Jon, she has to touch your toe to bandage it. Stop being a baby.”

“Oh give me a break, Ms. ‘screaming so loud during childbirth that the mid-wife admonished you “less yelling, more pushing!"‘“

At which point, both the nurse and my wife stopped and gave me a look that said, “Oh no, you did NOT just compare your stupid toe injury to the pain of giving birth, Mr. “I have a penis and a teeny toe wound Man,” did you?”

“Wait, no, I’m NOT comparing this toe pain to childbirth. Not at all. I’m sure your unmedicated labor pain and pushing a human out your vagina was much worse than this little thing. I’m just saying I wasn’t ready for her to squeeze my toe and it hurt quite a bit and that you screamed A LOT during Ellis’ birth. That’s all.”

And then I had to walk/hobble home from the InstaCare facility.

1. That visual of you falling over on the bed was hysterical, thanks for the giggle. Toe pain is pretty serious. I would blame being a popper for comparing it to childbirth in the presence of women, an unmedicated person would never conceive of doing that.

   PS: I have a crush on the bottom of your page.

   Posted by Melissa  on  06/16/08  at  01:03 PM

2. Why do you keep a milk crate in your bedroom?

   Posted by Sterkworks  on  06/16/08  at  01:10 PM

3. WOW, that’s some kind of weekend!

   I knew you were talking about yourself when you gave me that, “A co-worker hurt his/her toe...” scenario.

   Next time you compare an ingrown toenail to childbirth, please video Rhea’s reaction.

   Many thanks!

   Posted by Pants  on  06/16/08  at  02:28 PM

4. I couldn’t resist commenting on this. I had a recurring ingrown toenail one summer & fall when I was in college. The very cute and kind doctor at Doc-in-a-Box, or whatever it was called--maybe Instacare--did his best and even gave me free drugs, poor college student that I was but I ended up having outpatient surgery where they actually cut a lengthwise sliver off my toenail and then LASERED the nail bed it so that section would never grow back.
   You get really, really good drugs when they break out the lasers.
   In the minus column, however, I hate wearing sandals because I’m afraid everyone notices that one toenail isn’t as wide as the other.

   Posted by SusannahS  on  06/16/08  at  03:49 PM

5. Sterk The milk crate belongs to Ellis. She left it there in the middle of our room. It says a lot about my love and devotion to her that she’s still alive after leaving it where I could kill myself on it.

   Susannah Lasers! Cool! I wish I’d had the laser treatment. They only did the lengthwise cut on mine. Maybe you got the laser treatment because yours was re-occurring?

   Posted by Jon  on  06/16/08  at  03:56 PM

6. I want you to know that i made it to the end of the credits in the recent Iron Man Movie.  When i buy new stuff, i read not only the manual, but the EULA as well.  Your puny page footer was a piece of cake.

   Posted by Stephen  on  06/16/08  at  07:39 PM

7. “Anyway, I spent the weekend in bed with my foot propped up and popping pain pills. “

   Admit it: you got exactly what you wanted of fathers day.

   Posted by michael  on  06/16/08  at  10:43 PM

8. Laughing hysterically, but feelin’ your pain! I have given birth and dealt with ingrown toenails and broken toes.  As bad as child birth was, toe pain is definitely in like the Top 5 of seriously painful injuries that no one really acknowledges. Also in there somewhere would be wisdom tooth removal.  Anyway...hang in there.

   Posted by Geri C  on  06/17/08  at  01:20 AM

9. I totally agree with Geri. I’ve never had an ingrown toenail (yet) but I have a permanently-injured ligament in one of my baby toes and I can tell you with a straight face that every time I re-injure it, it hurts FAR worse than my three episodes of completely natural childbirth - and I was even given a hard time by the birthing room nurse for making too much noise, too. (My apologies to Reha for agreeing with you.)

   Posted by Lillian  on  06/17/08  at  07:11 AM

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Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

 

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

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