I wrote the other day about the pain I started having in my foot.
Turns out it wasn't in my head after all (I'd sort of convinced myself that it was.) I called last week for an appointment with Dr. Clark, who did my surgery, and even after a little whining about how painful it was, the earliest I got in was this afternoon. I expected him to tell me that it was normal. That the nerves were just healing or something and the pain I felt was to be expected. Instead, he told me what I secretly feared...the pin that he'd put in my foot to hold the bone together was coming out.
Better still, he thought we should cut on in now and pull it out, since it would only get worse. And since I could think of nothing more exciting to do with a Tuesday afternoon than to lay back, have someone numb by foot, cut into it and take a pair of pliers and pull a pin out of a bone, I said, why not. Thirty minutes, and to be honest, a little nausea, queasiness and dizziness (I've become such a freakin' wimp!) later...the pin's out, I'm stitched back up and I now (again) can't wash my foot for five days... yippee.
And I suppose, when the anesthesia wears off, I'll be happy about it, assuming it doesn't hurt like I'm imagining it will.
I'm off to make enchiladas. Comfort food.
Tomorrow, the dentist...