Week 3

Week 3

This has been a slooow week, but my foot feels stronger and slightly more durable. It doesn't feel like it's going to detach, hit the floor, and burst into flames the instant my boot comes off. However, the ankle and foot muscles are completely useless and unable to support their own weight, so it needs to be guided to and fro. This week's    * m i l e s t o n e  *   is taking my first proper bath. This is a good thing because my foot smells like a trash can. I prepare a bubble bath for us. Placing it into hot water makes it immediately swell to double the size, so my fantasia of a luxury foot soak is postponed until further notice. I blast it with cool water from my hand-held shower head--which massages it perfectly and is the most invigorating sensation after weeks of imprisonment. My foot is very excited to be stimulated and responds with a rush of circulation to the area, not unlike a boner. My big toe is still so fragile I can't even consider washing it with a sponge loofah thing--and only some areas can tolerate my hand brushing over it with suds. The whole top of my foot is still raw too, but I think the water will have a healing effect. After my tepid, 10-minute spa getaway, it's time for me to get back to waiting out my sentence on the couch with my foot raised to the heavens in penitence. I hug the side of the bathtub and with splendid elegance, roll my sopping wet ass over the edge into a heap on the floor.