How lucky are you?

Seriously. If you only knew that there was a chance that the photo greeting you this morning would not be of a lovely pink petal, but a grainy, b&w ultrasound of my left foot* then you would know instantly that today was a good day to purchase a lottery ticket.

Ahhh-- irony hits like a wrecking ball.

Perhaps, the title of my last post was a bit of foreshadowing? They say authors often don't even realize what they are putting into the text and this was definitely true for me. Toes = Daisy licking them. And yet, a brief four hours later, my foot was getting x-rayed and slimed in goop for an ultrasound.

Have no fear-- this was a scheduled doctor's visit. What happened was that I finally hit the wall on the chronic pain in my left foot.* This Spring it will be three years since I first noticed it and it occurred to me, maybe I should have it looked at? (We homestead queens are nothing if not stoic).

So, with dread in my heart that the doctor will tell me I have two choices, cut the toe off or endless rounds of surgery that has only a 75% chance of success, it was thrilling to learn that I do not have gout, arthritis, a splintered bone, or psychosomatic syndrome, but in fact, I have a Morton's neuroma.

Which (sound the trumpets!) has a cure: drown the nerve in alcohol.

I kid you not. I go in for a weekly shot that drowns the nerve in alcohol.

Is it just me or does this seem, oh-- I don't know-- somehow, fitting?

Yesterday I got my first hit and GOD, the relief!! I had no idea. I truly had no idea how much pain was in my foot until they loaded it with alcohol and I was without pain. I would never insult my dear friends and readers who have gone through the genuine physical trauma of childbirth and had the relief of an epidural by comparing this to having an epidural, but

OH MY GOD-- I TOTALLY GOT AN EPIDURAL FOR MY FOOT AND IT WAS HEAVEN!!!

Truth is, for all of my inability to deal with emotional pain, it seems I have a very high tolerance for physical pain. (Witness the seven stitches I got on my finger without novacaine). But no more, baby. No more. We are taking this toe to the weekly party and it is gonna wake up wrapped around the keg. Hoo-YAH!

Of course, this morning as the alcohol has worn off-- I am back in pain with a renewed awareness that it doesn't need to be so. So, I am going to be counting down the days until Thursday when I get my next fix. (Unfortunately, for those of you wondering, filling my stomach with alcohol does not elicit the same relief. In fact, chances are a full stomach of alcohol would result in further body damage as prior test data has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, my innate clumsiness is consistently magnified tenfold).

Alas for me (and my toe), I still have to walk the dogs up and down the mountain and today will not see me supine on a sofa as we have houseguests arriving for the weekend and there is much with the cleaning and prepping that must occur.

Meantime--

Be well! Stay warm! Have a weekend free from foot pain!

And know that I have all the medicine I need in this cuddler who has more empathy in his whole body than Mother Theresa has in --- wait for it --- her left foot!

*ha ha when will I ever again get to randomly write "my left foot"? and, how sad that I get a particular pleasure out of that odd fact.

P. S.: oh and remind me to tell you how adorable T was yesterday and the thing he did that was so romantic--- I'm going to save it for Valentine's Day when he brings me home a clutch of flowers from the gas station because as I have often mentioned here-- we are really good throughout the year on normal, average days-- it's the major Hallmark holidays where we suck.

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