Ewwy Gooey

You know that whole thing where something goes horribly, horribly awry (a car accident, people fighting in the street, Britney Spear's existence, etc.) and you know you shouldn't look -- shouldn't even think about looking -- but something in you, some perverse little imp at the back of your soul, forces your head to turn and your eyes to open and then POW! You're stuck forever with an image you really, really, really could have done without?

Yeah, me too. More on that in a mo ...

Today was a jam-packed day, actually. First up with my trip to the surgeon, and my first trip down my lovely new ramp. All was well, which was a treat. I had many new x-rays taken, and then for the big event: the grand unveiling of My Broken Left Foot.

Dear reader, I almost brought a camera with me. Almost took pictures of whatever it was that God and my surgeon (the fabulous Dr. Gorczyca -- hiya, Dr. G!) hath wrought. Almost. But I didn't, and you can send your thanks care of e-mail. It was ... well, disturbing is a word. Actually, let me start by saying that all is well in MBLF land. Yes, the right ankle is screwed up a tad. Yes, MBLF is still broken. However, all is generally coming along, and Dr. G seemed pleased by the health and general healing (right, Dr. G? Hello?). That said: ewwww.

**WARNING: If you're squeamish -- skip ahead, my sisters and brothers. Seriously, it's cool. *I* would've skipped ahead if I could've, trust me.**

Once the initial cast and splint material was cracked open, layer after layer of blood-soaked material was peeled away. The first part of my foot that was then visible to me was pin #1, situated about two inches below my big toe. And why was it visible? Because I am apparently a human shish-kabab, and I have been skewered with this temp pin, which has a little handle-thingy sticking out of my foot. OUT. of my. FOOT. And apparently, we aren't taking that bad boy out for at least six more weeks.

I was barely coming to terms with this little moment -- the blood, the pin, etc. -- when all was peeled away and, well, how do I put this? I apparently have a prop from Hellraiser attached to my left ankle where my foot once resided.

There are three major incisions going. One goes the length of the foot, from below the shish-kebab pin to my ankle. #2 is on the outside of my foot, going probably 3/4 the length of the foot. The third is actually my old friend the ankle scar re-opened for some tweaking -- from the base where the foot and the ankle meet, to about 4 -5 inches up. Very purty.

There are many, many, many black, puckered stitches holding it all together. I would say ... ehh, 40-50? Nice. Dr. G basically said all looked cool, I'm a trooper (he's right, I SO am) and he'd see me in three weeks for le removal du stiches and whatnot. Oh, and I get to have an actual cast. Alex the friendly med tech was feeling festive, as was I so voila:

**END squicky portion of blog. Resume your regular reading patterns.**

The day DID improve, of course. My truly fabulous friends Jules, Alicia and Sofia all came to visit me, which was a TOTAL treat. We visited, had some mad cookies and generally caught up. Then best friend Kim came over (seriously, if everyone could have a best friend as amazingly fabulously wonderful as Big K -- who has visited and helped and supported CONSTANTLY -- then we'd have world peace in like, a day) before her holiday soujourn to see the fam. And then, my team sent me the most gorgous bouquet of flowers from my fave flower store, Arenas. I miss my team so very much: there is no more talented, funny, caring, intelligent group of people anywhere and I am so proud to be friends and teammates with them all. Smooches!

And so, that was Friday.