Fractured

You’ve probably stubbed your toe a few times in your life, amiright? Sure you have. Sadly, you will likely never get to the championship-level toe stubbing that I have attained. You need to practice every day. Most people don’t have that kind of drive. I don’t mean to be dismissive, but I am just extremely adept at smashing my feet.

If there’s a box, I will kick it. If there’s a door frame, I will hit it. If there’s something heavy, I will drop it on myself.

I’m not what I would consider a clutz, per se. I just have magnets in my feet that attract injury. They’re average sized feet. They don’t turn out so that snagging them on objects would be easier. Nope. They just get themselves in situations on a regular basis that defy explanation.

I’m a good healer, so typically I’m back up and running (literally) in a week or two. Recently, however, I stubbed my pinky toe so well that I actually broke it.

Back in February (the 3rd to be precise, according to my bullet journal), I kicked a box of t-shirts as I was walking by; the box was minding its own business. Again, these are not things I do on purpose, it’s a natural talent I have developed. I’m not angry, or frustrated, nor do I have anything against boxes or cardboard. Simple happenstance, or what some might call not looking where I’m going. But yes, I jabbed my pinky toe into that box like I was playing in the World Cup. Or at least it felt that way.

Several expletives later, it bruised and swelled up like a hot dog in a microwave.

I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be running any time soon. I did do some power walking and hiking, but that’s only because I’m stubborn and kind of dumb. Suffice to say it didn’t get any better under that kind of care. After a couple months of this, Jenni suggested that maybe, just maybe I might want to get it checked out. Okay, sure, fine.

Turns out it’s broken this time. For real. Thankfully, I squeaked by without needing surgery, but it was close. The only thing I have to do now is… wait. Apparently I can even run on it if I want, as long as there’s no pain. But I’m not going to do that (again – yes, I tried it once). I will (sigh) let it heal like a normal person would.

I wish I could say something about lessons being learned, or offer up some kind of zen wisdom about feet. Alas, I only have this dumb story about my toe.

The offending phalange, as seen from the outside. Hey, that would be a good name for a bar.

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