I really messed up my feet last summer. What’s weird about it, among other things, is that I saw myself falling, cartwheel-style down a set of steps. Crazy, I know. I had this horrid vision of falling, spinning, caterwauling even, down a staircase. I had this vision for at least 2 years.
I fell. I had been out cocktailing and smoking cloves with a close “party” friend of mine. I was pretty loaded, but as is my typical, I didn’t seem drunk. But I was. I went to the front porch to smoke my last smoke. I smoked. I went to the steps. And. I. Cartwheeled. Down. The. Steps.
God protects drunks? Yep, he does. At least most of the time. I think I’d used up all my drunk, get out of jail free points.
There was a moment or two when I had no idea where I was. Everything was black. I woke up in a twisted, yard sale mess half way down my front lawn. Cartwheeling indeed.
I could tell that at least two of my toenails were torn off. I was sore everywhere. I pulled myself off the lawn lest any neighbors drive by and see my twisted drunken form in the grass.
I stumbled inside mumbling something about falling. I wrapped my torn toes in band aids and went to bed. I think the more apt term is “passed out”.
Next morning came early with a slamming headache. There was another headache, even larger, in my foot. I pulled aside the covers and took a look. My big toe? It didn’t look right. It had a weird bruise. And the rest of my toes? Scraped to be-Jesus. (be-Jesus is a technical term for Eff-ed Up) And two toenails were completely missing.
I went through my day. DD said my foot was just banged up and it would be better soon.
By the end of the day, my big toe was feeling funny. Like funny in not completely right kind of way. I went to the Emergent Care center. Having said that, I never voluntarily go to a doctor. You know it must be pretty sketchy if I go to a doctor.
I got an xray and waited for the results.
Story of my clumsy drunkenness continues tomorrow.