Week 1

Week 1

I have replaced walking with painkillers and peanut butter.  The extra lard consumption should pair nicely with my atrophying muscles. My foot is still extremely uncomfortable, and the residual tenderness from surgery and being stuffed in the boot lasts all week. It feels weak and sad. I also have extreme numbness in ALL of my toes. I can feel the tips of them, but if I touch the top of them- I feel nothing at all.

Not being able to work absolutely sucks, but I'm extremely lucky to be self-employed with no major commitments. I can afford to be completely still and just WAIT it out, as mind-numbingly boring as it is. To be honest though, I would tell any job/school/whatever to politely eff-off anyway. Nothing is worth compromising a successful recovery!

I have to take my painkillers every 4 hours, even in the middle of the night. I can't get through the night without waking up in searing pain anytime my foot flexes in my active dream state. I want to stay in dreamland until this is all over but I continue to be interrupted by Mr. Toe, demanding midnight snacks of opiates and orange juice.

Sleeping flat on my back is the only option, and I have developed an aggressive cowlick in my hair which, to the untrained eye, looks like enormous bald spot.

Something I am extremely grateful for is my single-floor apartment. I have no stairs to climb, and I have an amazing roommate (Jeffy-Poo) who brings me food and helps me relocate pillows around the apartment.. a task which has recently soared to the top of my priority list. I rarely have to maneuver around, and that's a good thing. One of my few attempts to feed myself in the kitchen resulted in a paper carton of Orange Juice dropping onto my cast. I punished the rogue carton by drinking all of its juice, crushing it in my hands and throwing it to the floor in disgust. I then crutched myself back to bed and wept for us both.