2 posts tagged “lanie”
I used to go around barefoot all the time.
All. The. Time.
I was a no-shoes-wearing freak. The shoes came off as soon as I opened the front door and weren’t worn again until sometime after I left the house the next morning.
During this season of my life, until roughly… yesterday, I hurt my feet in so many wondrous ways. Not that it was wonderful, just that it made people wonder, “How the bleep did you do that?!” Well, you know, some people cuss when they’re wondering.
When I was a kid, there was this section of the floor where the tile butted up to the carpet, and I never seemed to lift my feet high enough to avoid tripping over the dumb edge hump. Not sure of the technical term for “edge hump”, but maybe you get the picture? It’s quite possible that I broke nearly every toe on each foot growing up. I say “it’s quite possible” because I’ll never know if they were really broken or not. That’s what you get when you have a mother who’s an orthopedic nurse. You get taped and splinted, because really there’s nothing they can do about a broken toe. One toe would barely heal before another toe was injured and the first toe would act as a splint for the newly hurt toe. It was a vicious cycle.
Sometimes, I would puncture a toe on the stairway because I got my piggies too close to the tack strip.
One time, I did this.
Another time, I stepped on a blown-glass Christmas ornament and barely came away with my skinniest toe intact. As it is, I’m still trying not to lose the thing to infection.
Hmmm, okay, I really only shaved a few layers of skin off, but still…it hurt, okay? Plus it was my skinniest toe and it didn’t have many layers of skin to begin with. And it was on the underneath side, so I had to step on it all the time. It’s one thing to cut your knee while your shaving, but you don’t have to walk on your knees all the time, so it’s really not similar at all.
When I couldn’t bear to hurt my feet again I finally decided to start wearing shoes all the time. Even at home, which is where a person should be able to go around bare footed. And, for that matter, bare you-know-whated as well if he or she really feels like it. I hear it’s kind of nice to walk around in your underwear when there’s no one else at home. Not that I do that when Rex is at work and Bx is at school… or when I’m looking for a towel that just happens to be in the living room. I just hear that it’s nice, that’s all I’m trying to say. And, all of that aside, I wear tennis shoes around the house all the time now anyway, and I’m pretty positive tennis shoes just aren’t flattering on people who walk around bare you-know-whated. I’m so certain about it, that I got these cute little lavender slippers that have rubbers soles in order to prevent just such an unflattering occurrence.
Not that I do that anyway. Good grief, y’all! How many times do I have to reinforce that point?
Here’s my main point: My feet have been feeling so much better since I started wearing tennis shoes (and rubber-soled slippers) to prevent mishaps like the illustration above. I highly recommend instituting the practice at your place of residence.
P.S. Please don’t unexpectedly pop by my house to try to catch me wearing my tennis shoes during the day. It won’t work, and my ugly old sweats’ll just disappoint you anyway.
P.P.S. If you’re going to pop by during the day, please call me 10 minutes in advance on regular days and 1 hour in advance on laundry day.
I know. Doesn’t sound real. I’ve already mentioned it a few times and people generally look at me with their mouths open and I often hear that little sticking sound at the back of their throats like they are truly lost for words when I ask: “Have you ever had an itch that you have to chase?”
It’s just odd the way it shows up when I’m really concentrating on something. I’ll be convincing myself to fall asleep and there it is, and I chase it until it ends inside my ear where I can’t reach it with anything other than a toothpick. Not that I’ve ever used a toothpick in my ear, but I’ve definitely had notions toward that end. I was sitting at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert just the other night, and the Itch started. I was, however, too entranced by all the hair flipping and stage strutting to really give it much thought at the time. It’s rare that I can overlook the Itch like that, but I was really distracted at the time.
I actually Googled it: Phantom Itch. The first thing that comes up is this article about an amputee who had excruciating pain in his missing elbow. I was fascinated, because I’m just like that guy!
Except, I’m not missing anything like an elbow. It’s just that stupid Itch that runs away when I bend down to scratch it. But, still. See? He’s lost an elbow, and I’ve lost my itch. What the heck, huh? We could be the same person. Almost interchangeable.
Anyway, I was reading about this guy. “When he puts his good arm into a box lined with mirrors he seems to recognize his missing arm, and he can finally stretch the cramped elbow out. Within a month his brain reorganizes its damaged circuits, and the illusion of the arm and its pain vanish.”
There it was! A solution to my problem! It’s just damaged circuits in my brain telling me the Itch is on my thigh, when really it’s hovering just above the second rib on my left side. Now, all I needed was a box lined with mirrors that was large enough to fit my right leg (and maybe sometimes my left armpit). Only, I found out that mirror-lined boxes are not cheap, and also, shipping is a pain. So, I figured a compromise would work and considered using a big cardboard box lined with heavy-duty aluminum foil. You know, the kind you use when you really mean business?
Aluminum foil doesn’t exactly work like a mirror. They don’t tell you that on the box.
I was back to square one, but I have learned something. Sometimes, if I sit long enough and listen to the Itch, I can detect its actual, physical location and I may then expedite relief by scratching. I may end up scratching my left shoulder blade or my right eye, but at least the Itch has been heard and is soothed.
Moral of the story? Listen to your itch. Also, an inexplicable runaway itch could work better than the Pill in regard to birth control. I wouldn’t pose that theory to a classroom or anything, but it could work better.
