Jun 20, 2005 14:46
I now officially have 'bad feet': like Fletch from 'Porridge,' and Sarah Gamp, and Norah Batty ('Last of the Summer Wine'), and Gerald Durrell's Lugaretzia and many other heroes and heroines of song and story.
I limped down from Dublin with blisters on my blisters. The skin on the soles of my feet has been crap since a childhood brush with veruccas that means the skin is either paper thin or thick and flaky by turns. Hot weather makes it worse. Hot weather and staggering around Dublin with an overnight bag and *slightly* party-ish shoes on was asking for it really. Half inch Cuban heels should not have this kind of effect on a red blooded Western woman. Still, foot pain seems to be 'a thing' with me and I find myself sympathising more and more each day with the memory of those thousands of Chinese women who had their feet bound, also with the Little Mermaid.
Then today I got to take my verucca to the €120 a pop dermatologist who attacked it with a blade and dry ice and then sent me off to get other unguents to smear and scrape with for another 9 weeks before he sees me again to decide whether to remove the rest by surgery. I do *not* like this! Oh and it f**king hurts!
feet