A local anæsthetic and a lot of poking around with the sort of instruments one would see in David Cronenberg's Dead Ringers, and I am finally free of the irritant ingrown toenail I forged falling down the stairs last year. Hurrah! Not more periodic limping around (except for the next few days, that is)! No more visits to the podiatrist (except for the redressings, that is)!
I tend to have trouble with my feet. Most of the last round of injuries were all caused by that one late-night stair-slipping incident, where I rammed my big toe fairly and squarely, with a good 84 kilos behind it, straight into a brick wall at 3:00 in the morning sometime last September. Aside from the initial limping, and the spunky regional doctor telling me it was no use x-raying my foot as the treatment is the same for a broken toe as for a slightly injured toe, the pain disappeared quite quickly—a week or two. Since then it has resurfaced every few months in raging soreness, irritation, infection and disablement.
A few years before that, stumbling home with the flatties, like you do, we spotted a drain-grate that had been removed from the gutter due to roadworks. We all thought that looked like the world's best-ever found-object barbeque grill, and between the four of us, we hoiked the mother-fucker up and carried it a good 25 yards before the whole 7okg of cast-iron slipped from its surround and landed fair and square on the bridge of my foot. My favourite pair of motor bike boots and half a dozen stitches later, I have a lovely blueish knotted scar on the upper of my left foot, should anyone need to identify me after an earthquake or tsunami.
I tend to have trouble with my feet. Most of the last round of injuries were all caused by that one late-night stair-slipping incident, where I rammed my big toe fairly and squarely, with a good 84 kilos behind it, straight into a brick wall at 3:00 in the morning sometime last September. Aside from the initial limping, and the spunky regional doctor telling me it was no use x-raying my foot as the treatment is the same for a broken toe as for a slightly injured toe, the pain disappeared quite quickly—a week or two. Since then it has resurfaced every few months in raging soreness, irritation, infection and disablement.
A few years before that, stumbling home with the flatties, like you do, we spotted a drain-grate that had been removed from the gutter due to roadworks. We all thought that looked like the world's best-ever found-object barbeque grill, and between the four of us, we hoiked the mother-fucker up and carried it a good 25 yards before the whole 7okg of cast-iron slipped from its surround and landed fair and square on the bridge of my foot. My favourite pair of motor bike boots and half a dozen stitches later, I have a lovely blueish knotted scar on the upper of my left foot, should anyone need to identify me after an earthquake or tsunami.
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