Bnote # 148 – Broken Toe Blues

Last week I was not joking when I mentioned I broke my toe. Bailey was upset from waking up early from her nap and not being immediately attended to while I was castigating some hapless customer service peon. I took her to the kitchen, offered her a snack, and put on the Thomas and Friends CD that I “get” to hear at least twice every single day. I tried distracting her by chugging around the kitchen table to the music. I learned the hard way to go counter-clockwise. In my sock feet, I hit my pinky toe on the corner of the kitchen cabinetry. There was an unpleasant snap, and instead of pain, the toe was mostly numb and pointing entirely the wrong direction. Dr. McWifeington later confirmed that my toe was broken. It was extremely painful when I tried to tape it to the next toe, which she says is pretty much the entire course of treatment for a broken pinky toe. Maybe in my lifetime we will see greater medical advancements in the field of toe wellness. We can only hope.

I like to credit my dairy consumption and the resulting calcium fortified bones for getting me through the first 34+ years of my life without any broken bones. But I finally met my match against the kitchen cabinet. For the first couple of days I was able to experience the challenge of wrangling a toddler while hopping around on one foot. At least now I should have a grossly oversized muscular right leg.

The wife obtained a post-op shoe for me to wear to secure the toe, and after a week, it feels better. I can get around alright, even though I am a little gimpy. Half of my foot has been red and purple, and looks like it’s painted with Halloween makeup, or the colors of a beautiful and horribly painful sunset.

Wearing a sandal in 20 degree weather is as awesome as it sounds.

Even though the toe is getting better, it still hurts when a certain toddler, who has little to no concern for anyone but herself, decides she needs to step on it. One day this week she decided to invade the bathroom while I was on the throne and squeeze between the window and the blinds, which apparently is vastly entertaining despite the fact that she can’t see through the privacy glass. She stepped on my toe and I yelped so loudly I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the authorities.

Hopefully the toe will be fully healed a month or so from now, and I will be off the disabled list. I don’t want to add any further delays to becoming a 35 year old rookie rugby star.