let the hammer down.

I am 45% 65% 10% not actually sure anymore that I broke my big toe this morning at 6:15am, but it really seemed like it.

I was rooting around on our combined medicine cabinet/toolbench/recycling staging area for something with which to blow my nose, in the dark, and also in that squinty, I'm-about-to-sneeze way, and I grabbed something that dislodged a hammer from its moderately high perch. Hammer, meet big toe. Cue not-very-muffled and highly profane yowls of disbelief.

I've had the good fortune to never have been seriously injured, and this is not a "serious" injury, but for me this pain is (outside of some mercifully brief dental or back pain moments in the past) unprecedented. I'm sure that the healthcare professionals among you are thinking that an X-ray could pretty much resolve the uncertainty in my diagnosis.

If it's still this bad tomorrow then yes I'll think about an X-ray. My reason not to would be the sucky fact that there's no real treatment for an allegedly broken toe other than "don't walk on it" and "take some Vitamin D". And I don't like hospitals.

In the meantime, let's work together on something more uplifting and positive: let's figure out a lowfat, vegetarian version of this.

We could also reminisce about ludicrously decadent meals of yesteryear. Pictured above: Rutz's uniquely flaky olive focaccia from 2009's Berlin trip. Below: the foie gras overdose that followed.


1 comment:

Klary Koopmans said...

I thought I broke my toe once (foot between car door) and that's what the huisdokter said: 'we don't treat that'.
lots of painkillers, my friend.