***** CD OFFER STILL STANDS ***** WOULD LIKE ALL ORDERS IN BEFORE I BURN THEM ***** PLEASE LET ME KNOW BY FRIDAY IF YOU WOULD LIKE ANY ***** I'M ALSO GOING TO BURN CD'S FOR DESCI AND BOB SO PLEASE HURRY - I DON'T WANT TO UPSET THE LOVELY GOTHS ***** STOP *****
Three trips to the doctor in two days, anyone?
I'd had a wart on my foot for years... and in recent years two more had appeared. I became particularly self-consious of my foot at martial arts camp, when I realised that while sitting cross legged, my senior would be able to see the cluster up at the top of the ball of my foot. Also that on the rare occurance I took the class through warm-up, they'd notice them too.
When I was younger and visited the doctor with a plantar wart, we were advised to lucoplast banana peel to it - suprisingly, this worked rather well (though it died it didn't fall out until my cousin accidentally scratched it out whilst crawling behind me). Middle bro succesfully used nail polish and duct tape to suffocate his, but I figured that as my curse was more than a few years old, it was too happy to be shifted in such a remedial manner.
I visited the doctor twice late last year to get the warts frozen off. Both times I limped away thinking they were succesfully removed - both times I was dissapointed. A trip to the chemist resulted in a cream to be applied directly to the wart - ignoring a few minor directions (only use it for two weeks *cough*3.5 weeks*cough* and one wart at a time *cough*three*cough* *cough*and cutting at it with scissors*cough*) I was 'suprised' at getting an infection that left me unable to bend or straighten by big toe or put any pressure on my foot.
"Take these antibiotics, leave it for two weeks then come back and get them frozen again." stated yet another doctor.
"But I've had them frozen twice already!"
"Well, some of them take five or six or seven goes to die..."
"But I read that they can just be burnt out?" (The Hun's mum looked it up in her medical book)
"Well - we don't recomend that as it's far too intrusive... and there's only one doctor here who will do it... and he's very busy at the moment..."
"Hrm, ok... thanks."
Five minutes later I was back at my desk requesting a 'have a look' appt with the busy doctor for two weeks time, and another 'burn em out' appt for as close after that as I could (Thursday 15th and Monday 19th respectively).
Well - it's Tuesday, so you know what that means!
Monday morning I nervously shuffled off to my appointment. May I say that having a local anaesthetic poked through the calloused ball of my foot to quite some depth three times is THE MOST PAINFUL AND UNCOMFORTABLE THING I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED (Tattoo? Check. Stitches in forheard? Check. Stitches in open wound from can opener? Check. etc). "Well, I said it would be uncomfortable, but I didn't tell you quite how uncomfortable it would be..."
And then? A plate thing was put under my calf to stop the electric current - yup - electric. He then used electricity and wire to burn them out. No pain, but I will say that the smell was somewhat unique.
Ten minutes later and I was back at work - shaky and sweaty. I handed the certificate over to my boss and said that although they'd said I'd be fine straight after, I might go home and put my foot up - he readily agreed and sent me on my pasty way. On my way out the door, I stopped in to tell my old boss that I was leaving and was greeted with points and gasps that my foot was bleeding... out of the bandages, all over my foot and ruining my shoe. At this stage it was still numb and I was more concerned with how shaky I was and how hot and clammy I felt and hadn't noticed. So back to the doctor with a squeak to the receptionist ("um, excuse me, I'm meant to keep this bandage on for a week but it's covered with blood and has ruined my shoe...") and I was back on the same bed for a rewrap.
I hate doing the whole coedine talk - I told the nurse I'd go straight home after popping into the chemist (my fear of pain is harsher than actual pain) and she managed to 'find some' there for me so that I could get home and put my foot up immediately. I always get super anxious about looking like a junkie when it comes to drugs - I know I'm the least likely candidate for drug addiction, but I cringe to think of the way I reached for the drugs before she'd finished explaining the risk.
Anyways, I spend the evening with my foot wrapped up double-smart, wondering what on earth I was going to wear on that foot what was so thickly bandaged I couldn't possibly fit it into anything. And work this morning was fine - I managed to find one of those massagey thongs that had velro over the top to strap on, though it doesn't mean it stayed on (as I can't/won't curl my toes). After a trip to the shops at lunch I settled down to relax a bit as I felt a little warm and was worried I could feel a pulse in the ball of my foot - a quick nip under the desk confirmed that something was once again leaking through the bandage.
A trip back to the doctor and ANOTHER afternoon off, I have my foot wrapped up in a heavy duty strapping bandage. Still no crutches or advice other than to 'keep doing what I'm doing" and only one coedine left - I'm a little worried about when the pain will kick in.
And I can tell you that you will be suitably disgusted with an 'after' pic - I sneaked a look today while it was being rewrapped... for all you omni's out there - imagine cutting into a side of pork - white, white skin at the top and the deepest darkest ruby red at the bottom of two cubes that have just been sectioned out.
Roast pork anyone?