Came home from Igloofest in the small hours of Saturday, emptied out the pockets of my coat, dropped a twoonie coin on the floor, lunged to grab it before it rolled under the oven, and somehow slipped and totally destroyed my left little toe. (
Cut for gory details. )
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I don't suppose anyone in your family has a larger pair of boots you can borrow? Your sister and your mom probably have smaller feet, right?
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I have a $3,000 deductible, so my way of dealing with injury and illness is to say, "If I wait long enough it will go away."
Well, last April I was walking extensively, which I do all the time, and my left heel started aching. I limped around the house for three days and then decided that the limp was screwing up my leg more than the foot was hurting, so I stopped limping and I strode mightily across the planet, and the foot sometimes hurt and sometimes didn't, and I hardly paid it any thought. I self-diagnosed as either a stress fracture or plantar fasciitis, and since the cure for the first is to stay off the foot and I didn't want to do that I decided to decide it was the second. And I decided that the way to deal with that was to ignore it and keep walking. So everything was fine until a week ago Saturday when the pain got much more and I found myself limping a lot. So I more or less stayed off it for a week, and now... it's just the same. So I'm back to my original mode of, "I will live my life as if ( ... )
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