I think I’ve broken my toe. I’ve definitely smashed and torn the nail, and the whole wee nubbin is a little crooked – and starting to swell. I posted a picture of the damage over on Twitter (don’t click that if you’re of the sensitive stomach type); but it’s actually swollen more and turned darker since I snapped that shot.
The toe has been treated, bandaged, and taped to its neighbor. No, I’m not going to the ER, since all they’d do at the ER is treat it, bandage it, and tape it to its neighbor. I’m not looking for suggestions, either. The situation is under control. Painful, throbbing, swelling, purplish control.
Well, shit. This isn’t going to help improve my morning run times.
No sir. Not at all.
(How did it happen, you ask? Um … I got into a bar-fight with a robot, see, and I kicked it squarely through a window and it exploded out over the street — but I forgot I wasn’t wearing my steel-toed boots, and I realized once the adrenaline had worn off that I had a sock full of blood. Yeah, that’s the ticket. It had NOTHING TO DO with my failure of depth perception intersecting with a swiftly opened bathroom door.)
On the bright side (and totally unrelated) – I sprung for a pack of Hanes underpants from Target, in light of the recommendations stemming from yesterday’s post. So far, so good. No poon-seeking seams yet to report. I will, however, quite cheerfully report that I’m a size “small” outside the world of Victoria’s Secret – where the mediums haven’t fit well lately. I was afraid I’d have to upgrade to a “large” before long.
So it’s nice to have some perspective on that.