My Left Foot

I am pretty sure I just broke the little toe on my left foot and it hurts ΓÇ£like sixtyΓÇ¥. I slammed the car door on it. In somewhat of a ΓÇ£lameΓÇ¥ defense for myself, I will add I have a condition called Transverse Myelitis where I don’t have a lot of feeling in my feet and no spatial awareness of where my left leg is. Think about that. It’s like having a free-range toddler that you have to catch with both hands and lift into the car and strap into place. But at 64, I am apparently a wee bit short on mothering skills.

Anywho, I did not lift my left leg into the car. Since I can drive an automatic car with my right leg I just plum forgot about that extra appendage on the left. And when I noticed the door bounced on something, I figured out it was either my coat or my pocketbook. My bad.

The pain was slow to register. I thought maybe I just mashed the fleshy part of my little toe, which is like saying Twiggy has a big butt. I hoped against hope, thinking maybe I just bruised it. When I finally got my shoe off in the Safeway parking lot and tried to bend my toe, it was a no go. I slowly drove over to Walgreens.

I stood in the ΓÇ£ConsultationΓÇ¥ line about 10 minutes. There was a growing aching and throbbing. This is good and bad. The good news is it means I am gradually regaining feeling that I lost 10 years ago. The bad news is, yeah, I can now feel things like broken bones.

I waited so long in line, my brain finally kicked into gear. I grabbed my phone and I Googled: How should I treat a broken little toe? The answer was to tape it to the next one, then put your foot up and ice that sucker. Well, okay, it actually said, ΓÇ£ice the intended areaΓÇ¥ which sounds more like a weather report: ΓÇ£The low will cause icing in the intended areas of Lower Cupcake and East Nowhere.ΓÇ¥

By the time I had read the entire six-page blog, the pharmacist was available so I read her the synopsis and asked if she wanted to add anything. Turns out, she did not, so I bought a roll of that stretchy stuff that looks like crepe paper and went home.

But a Day-Timer waits for no woman. I had scheduled to bake a rhubarb cobbler that afternoon, so I penciled in ΓÇ£put up footΓÇ¥ between baking and making dinner. Next I Googled the recipe for the cobbler. Once the rhubarb concoction was in the oven I was free to “chill”, well at least my foot. Finally, I Googled on my phone directions to a friendΓÇÖs house for a meeting I was going to be late for because of my toe. I took a nap.

This is really a great day. Why? Because I successfully Googled three things on my phone. Three for three, I was a dazzling success. It must be that searing pain heightens brain activity. And here I always believed heightened brain activity, such as attempting Sudoku, was the cause of pain. My mother was right, you learn something new every day.

By the time I woke up from my nap, the toe next to the little toe was also throbbing, so I tapped that one next to the middle one. What would we call that toe left of center on the left foot? I am thinking ΓÇ£Ring-Man of the Southern Borders?ΓÇ¥ (Based on the song for fingers: Where is Thumbkin, Pointer, Tall-man, Ring-man, Pinkie.)

There really should be some standardized names for toes other than “This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef”. How about Super Hero names. Starting with the big toe: Stub-man…the ability to find unmovable objects. And his side kick No-Name aka Flip-flop man…the ability to go in the opposite direction, especially when Stub-man finds said unmovable object. Cruncher…the ability to condense in size when wedged into a cowboy boot. Toe-Ringo…Suitable for wearing jewelry purchased at a Ren-Faire. And finally Buster Boy…small in size but able to inflict enough pain to make the rest of the entire body keel over and cry like a baby.

Sally Franz is a former stand-up comedian, motivational speaker, and radio host. She is a twice-divorced mother of two and a grandmother of three. Sally has a degree in gerontology and several awards for humor writing. She is the author of “Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey,” and “The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause.”