Caution:
This post contains violence, graphic images,
and implications of strong language.
Reader discretion advised.

Wednesday night, as I was hanging the shower doors that Chelsea and I so carefully cleaned back onto the bath, I dropped one on my big toe. I didn’t know I knew that many curse words. There was a gory amount of blood, and as I stood there, screaming, wondering what to do, I realized there was toilet paper left on the roll. I managed to soak up pools of blood and take a quick glance at the split nail before shuddering and wrapping it up with the tp. I limped out to the deck and sat there with my foot up on the rail for a good twenty minutes before I could limp the rest of the way down the stairs.

I’m a baby about minor owies, but the big stuff I tend to just suffer through. I wrapped a makeshift bandage, and didn’t even think to take anything for the pain until I called Mommy. It was also about that time I realized my toe ring was cutting off my circulation. I’m glad it was the toe ring that has the split in it, or I might have been in trouble trying to get it off. Fortunately, I have some really good pain stuff left over from my various medical mishaps. Look in the medicine drawer: “Let’s see...ibuprofen horse-pills, codeine, or vicadin?” Yay for my own little pharmacy! I started out with the ibuprofen, and between that and the ice, the swelling went down considerably, and then took a couple codeine before I went to bed. I ended up sleeping pretty well.

It's looking much better, though I’m going to lose the nail, seeing as it’s split right across the middle and the bed is totally damaged. I’ve been trying to keep it elevated, though it’s difficult working with all these files and trying to type things into my workpapers with my foot up on a chair. I guess I’m probably pretty lucky it split, otherwise I probably would have had to go to the hospital to relieve the pressure. That’s all I need: another visit to the hospital this year.

So, Chels, about moving...