Hissy Cat

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August 15, 2005

Adventure Toe-ing

Because it is impossible to see what I was taking a picture of with my crappy cellphone camera, I will explain:
a towtruck with a parking ticket.  Yes, a towtruck.  with aparking ticket tucked into its envelope and stuck under the windsheildwiper.  The namw of the tow company: Adventure Towing.

The Rest Of This Post Is Disgusting And I Do Not Recommend Reading it.  Ever.

And on the topic of vehicles (kind of), I want a mobilityscooter.  I want one of those mobility scooters with the basket onthe front that obese people use to locomote in big, American amusementparks.  My feet are in horrible pain, and I want a mobilityscooter to scoot me around.

I don't want my feet.  I totally busted them this weekend.  Ialready had this hideous, painful tumor-looking bump growing out of thecuticle on the right side of my left big toe.  I've had these onceor twice before.  They happen when I cut my cuticles back toofar.  On my big toes, especially, my cuticles can get prettygnarly, the more so the more I wear heels or pointy-toes or anythingelse that pinches my toes, and they to be trimmed, so I trim them,perhaps over-zealously.  But I don't just trim back the cuticlewhere it grows over the nail.  Especially if my toes have beengetting pinched by shoes or boots, the cuticle snakes around thecorners of my nails and sneaks to just underneath the corners.  IfI can get a hold of this cuticle, I will yank it right out from underthe nail, which is painful and disgusting and satisfying in the sameway it is satisfying to rip off an unripe scab.  Often, the firstpull will get a strip of rubbery dead skin and not too much pain. I know I should stop there but I don't.  I become completelycompelled with the taks of continuing to yank up my cuticles by theroots and completely fascinated by the foul repulsiveness of mybody.  I will do this until I am in quite a bit of pain, and I cando it for hours.  Eventually I become disgusted with myself forbeing so disgusting and doing such disgusting things.  And I'mangry that I've wasted time being disgusting, and ashamed andembaressed about my bloody, hacked-at feet.

I had a cuticle-snipping spree a few weeks ago and got carried away andyanked up about a half-centimeter of flesh which looks like it camefrom under my nail, but might be just a bit of inflamed cuticle, orsome kind of evil blood blister.  I'll call it, simple,"toe-tumor."  It hurts like fuck whenever it rubs againstanything, like a boot or bed post or my other toes.  It makesstubbing my toes, even when I am wearing cowboy boots, almostunbearably painful.  And it is unsightly.  Well, like I said,this has happened before, and I just swapped in with antiseptic creamand kept it clean and dry, bandaged during the day, but let out to airto "dry out" when I'm by myself at night.  The disgustingtoe-tumors have always gone away on their own.

Last week, however, I did a very poor job of caring for my foot, whichmeans that I pretty much did nothing at all except occaisionally pokeit and be grossed out.  It started oozing a little clear,lymphatic fluid at the end of last week, which forced me to finallyclean my foot because I was so scared of, you know, gangrene.

On Friday night, I went out and met up with Brett and his co-workers,and, because I am foolish and vain, I wore my boots even though I knewit was a very bad idea..  We walked around a lot that night, andBrett didn't have either band-aids or anti-bacterial cream at hishouse, and I was tired and didn't want to deal until morning.  Ofcourse, on Saturday morning, I had to go pick up a package from thePost Office, which required a good deal of walking, which I did in myboots, because I wouldn't have had time to stop home and changefootwear before the Post Office closed. 

Ok, so that hurt, and I was hobbeling around on Saturday night. But, I had gone home after the Post Office, and I'd cleaned and creamedand bandaged my toes and told myself it was already a little betterthan it had been (at least it wasn't oozing-- as much), beforesqueezing my feet back into my boots, yes the same ones as before,because I am vain and thought my boots looked nice with my dress. So, I taxied home that night, but no major bloodspills, more discomfortthan pain.

Oh but then, then, I grew arrogant and fool-hardy.  I wanted towear my other new dresss and wanted to wear shoes that would go withit, which just happened to be a pair of black mary-jane pumps. And I wore them.  Without socks or tights.  Because I am afucking idiot.

OH FUCK.  I just tried to hobble to the bathroom.  I am nowin my chair and kind of panting to get through the pain.  Fuckingfuck fuck fuck it hurts.  I have huge blisters on the soles of myfeet now-- those might be the worst-- as well as blisters all over mytoes (two of which are actually painful) and the old toe-tumor, whichis looking worse for the wear.

And to add to the indignity of all of this, this morning, whilesqueezing an extremely bloated,  extremely painful, fluid filledblister on my left sole with the naive hope that if the blister woulddrain there would be less pressure and less pain, it finally popped,and squirted me square in the face with an impressive jet-stream ofblister-juice.

Which takes me to my last point.  Foot problems are totallyrepulsive.  It's not like having back pains, or even cramps, whereyou can ask for a massage and complain without provoking too muchdisgust.  But my feet are horrendous monsters, totally unsexy,totally nauseating, totally repulsive, so I can't  complain or ask for help or sympathy.

I meant to go to the bank today to apply for a loan to purchase acomputer, as mine is busted and I need one so badly.  I can't go,since it hurts too much to walk to the car, and anyway, I think loanapplicants that show up at the bank hobbeling and shoe-less are usuallydenied, I would imagine.

I just want to go home and cry.

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Posted by hissycat at August 15, 2005 02:38 PM

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