In my last blog post, I promised a photo of my post-surgery foot. My last appointment was 5 days ago, I haven't had much time to sit around and write a blog.
(Oh - who am I kidding? All I have is time! I've just been lazy as hell.)
SO, click at your own risk, the photo is slightly gruesome - I don't recommend viewing if you're skeeved by the idea of a 2 inch long pin through my bone, and the head exposed outside my body. (That's what the yellow thing is!) Regarde!
It hurts. Well, not so much today. But it sucks not being normal, which hurts my brain. I am getting really tired of not getting around. I'm ready. I feel like I can walk on it, but I daresent do it. I'm REALLY tired of not driving, and really tired of my pants being tight because I cant exercise. That, and the Vicodin moonlights as G.I. Tract Spackle.
Enough complaining. I'm glad I did it. Living with the "Claw of Death", aka "Thundering Hooves" (my former foot), was no treat. Recent commentary on the Claw Hoof is as follows:
"...That that old foot of yours looked like a alien was trying to poke its way out to earth."
-LWin
She's right. I don't mind talking about it now; it's gone, and will never be seen again.
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