This is embarrassing. It happened last week, and I still have yet to tell you about it. Which is surprising as I tell you just about everything. I have told you about being electrocuted by water, pickle jar attempted murder, dead turkey attacks, and various other "only to you" painful situations.
I have a hair line fracture in my right foot. Yet that isn't as painful as the tissue damage. But I should start at the beginning of my day.
It was one of our pleasant days last week. I had Uma, Mamma, and X separated from the rest of the herd. Pastor Mike paid extra money to fatten X up on corn feed. It was early morning, even the few range chickens that have began roosting on the back steps were still sleeping. I hefted up the 50lbs bag of corn over my shoulder and headed out the back door. I shooed the chickens away and started down the steps.
Maybe it was the chicken poop, maybe I just miss stepped, however it began, I am well aware of how it ended. On my face in the mulch scattered about the ground.
I somersaulted on the same step apparently numerous times. I hear you askin, But Phelan how would you know this if you were busy spinning? I will tell you my friend, because I have a hole in the front side of my ankle, a hole higher up on my shin, and yet another in the palm of my hand. I had discovered that there was a head of a nail sticking up on the third step.
The feed went flying and I managed to chase after it. Doing a magnificent slide into base, apparently attempting to catch the feed bag. Oh it was all a blur. I laid there for a moment, until Large asked if I was ok. Why oh why did he have to ask. I heard his voice and tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I told him to get Husband who was in the front of the house working on the special project of his (the one that is looking like an above ground bunker) Of course they took their sweet time.
I went to get up, still crying mind you. And discovered that my ankle at that moment wasn't going to hold my weight, and I crash back to the ground. More out of the surprise of the pain, then the pain itself. As Husband and Large took time to discuss how they were going to approach coming out back to see if I needed any help, I managed to stand back up and and feel out the foot. And after a few moments I was able to walk, with a limp, and picked up the feed bag. Of course I was livid by the time Husband decided it was safe enough to come to my aid. ggrrrr. . . This is one moment that emotional distress seems to out weight the physical hurt. And it's not like my lips can get any bigger to look all pouty, I always look pouty, but I think I managed to pull it off, then get the eff off look.
Alas, this is not when I broke my foot. This was just the start of the most wonderful day of my life. (Yes, I am listening to System of a Down)
My ankle felt better and the scabs formed as the day moved forward. Lots of work to do. Husband had me climbing the above ground bunker jungle gym, my shoulders screaming because of past injuries and a cold front was pushing down on us. There were a few precarious times that afternoon. Times that one was forced to ask if I was ok. I had suddenly reverted to the clumsy tween, just growing into the size of her feet.
I managed to make it to dark without a visit to the ER. I was thankful that my elephantine day was now over. I could make a safe dinner, cuddle up to watch a movie with Husband, and drift into a peaceful non maladroit sleep.
Dinner was not elegant.
I managed to drop a cast iron griddle on my foot.
First a quick dance, next sailors blushed, then my brain said to go into the bathroom to wash the enormous amount of blood that was gearing up to spew from my foot.
From what I could glean as I limped with curse words on my lips and tears in my eyes, no one knew what happened. Only that I was dancing violently, and screaming some death metal lyrics. As if I had a moment from a Broadway musical and broke out into song during a mundane moment in life. Oh but this was not the case. I think I heard Husband asking after me. But my brain screamed cold water, so he was pushed back in my hearing.
I turned the cold water on, my foot quickly under it. No blood. Now this was surprising after the fact. I didn't care at the moment, but thinking back one would suspect blood when a heavy cast iron griddle falls onto your foot. Something should have been cut open. All I saw was a purple foot, already swollen.
And here my friends comes where Husband is a jerk, and threats of divorce are issued.
Husband made me sit down, and he placed my foot in his lap and put a bag of ice on it. I so preferred the swelling to the ice. It took three refills of ice and a couple hours before the swelling went down. Husband did his doctoring and determined that there was a hairline fracture. He informed me that wasn't what was causing all the pain. It was the severe soft tissue damage that was the culprit. He told me that a break is preferable to the tissue damage. It doesn't hurt as long. And I will agree with that. When I broke my arm, it only hurt for a day, but this has been hurting for a week.
The next day, it did feel a bit better, but I limped until the foot turned a nasty black color. Now it only hurts if a turn it wrong, or when I put my boots on. I have been wearing house slipper to do my chores.