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Friday, June 08, 2007


Let's Discuss My Toes!

My feet suck. Seriously, they suck 31 flavors of ass. I've always been a fairly healthy person (not talking life-style; I'm fully aware what a flabby fat-ass I am.) I've never had any major surgery. Never had any lengthy hospitalization. Never got to know my doctor so well that I exchanged Christmas cards with his staff.

The one thing I've had issues with...

Okay, I suppose that it would really be two things I've had issues with, seeing as how they come in pairs and all. The two things I've had issues with are my feet.

The absolute worst thing my feet did to me was plantar warts. That blew. They weren't really all that painful, but when I got them removed, the doctor gave me shots in the sole of my foot and that is the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. Even worse than that time I had to sit through an episode of According to Jim. I actually screamed. And, folks, I'm an insanely macho guy, so I only scream when something is excruciatingly painful or if I get an owie.

The plantar warts were just a one-time thing, though. The semi-recurring problem I've had throughout the years is ingrown toenails. What a stupid, stupid problem to have.

If you pay attention in seventh grade health class and clip your toenails like they tell you (straight across, goddammit) then you're going to be just fine. But I'm a rebel. Don't try to tell me how to maintain personal hygiene, fucker! I've always cut the nails on a curve.

I know. I really shouldn't be writing about this on a blog. I should've sent out a press release to alert the public about my preferred method of toenail upkeep.

The point is, when you're an idiot and insist on cutting your toenails on a fucking curve, you give yourself ingrown toenails. This is something I've done twice before in my life and you'd think I'd've learned my goddamn lesson.

It happened to me in high school. The podiatrist who took care of me that time got all tricky and deadened the side of the nail, which left me with an oddly-shaped Franken-toe which I often feel the need to hide, like a retarded Kennedy. He also sent me away with crutches, which I had to use at school for a couple of days. You have any idea how embarrassing it is when people ask you, "Hey, what happened? Did you break your foot or something?" and you have to respond, "No. It was an ingrown toenail." One of the many, many reasons I didn't get laid in high school. That and the mullet.

It happened again when right after I graduated from college, but this was a more conventional foot doc and he just did a little quick snipping and sent me on my way wearing a Chuck Taylor with the front hacked off.

And now it's happened again. It's happened again and I've done my level best to ignore it as long as possible, which is really fucking stupid. It makes it worse, you see, to ignore the problem. I've gone running on it. I've had students step on it. I've had it bleed in my shoe so that the scab stuck to my sock when I was getting ready for bed. That's sexy.

So I broke down today and called the doctor. I'm hoping I didn't leave it so long that the doctor has no choice but to amputate. 'Cause that would suck.

When your feet hurt, everything hurts.
It's like you're singing the song of my sole.

Warts? Yep. Ingrown? Uh-huh, and that's when I found out just how excrutiating a shot in the foot is.

I also can't feel the bottom of one big toe after getting it mangled riding my little sister's banana-seat Huffy with no shoes.

And, to top it all off, they smell like a tub of mayonnaise left to ferment in a stable.

Should I be sharing this? No, but you're the one who wrote about feet, and I blame your next post for the fact I'm singing Alouette right now, so there.
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