COVID-19: Day 29: No Easter Outfit

Some time ago, I wrote the infamous Why I Blame My Mother For My Shoe Fixation post. 

Having an Easter outfit with new shoes was pretty routine.  I’ve carried it into my later years even though I don’t attend church.

There will be no Easter outfit or Easter shoes this year.  Or an Easter dinner though I am playing around with the idea of making scalloped potatoes on Sunday.

I did order my mom an Easter basket which they kindly delivered yesterday.  She was tickled, but still and all it just doesn’t feel like Easter.

I’m growing weary of this quarantine, but I am still suffering it happily.  The alternative is death and destruction and in this time of Easter, we are to focus on life.  So maybe I’ll plan the Out of Quarantine Outfit and new shoes

COVID-19: Day 8 When this is over. . .

COVID-19 is a kind of war, I suppose.  All I know is that I woke with this song stuck in my head.  I’ve been singing it all day.  Alexa, bless her robotic little heart, plays it for me anytime I ask.

In the spirit of hope, I purchased shoes today to wear when this war is over.  They’ve been in my Amazon cart for months and I HAD successfully resisted in buying them, but today was different.  I’ve been avoiding thinking too far into the future for fear of what my brain will conjure.  Yes, my anxiety — worry about the future — is in hyperdrive.   I’m not usually anxious.  This is new behavior for me.

I’m driving myself slowly crazy.  So in the interest of mental health, I let my brain fast forward to the time when this all over.  My life’s motto has long been “this too shall pass.” Hence the new shoes.  I decided that I will need new shoes when I foray into a crowded public again.

An Aside:  When I was a child, I was told (by a book?  a teacher?  my own imagination?  I don’t know) that, surprisingly, shoes are one of the first things people notice about a person.  I took that way too much to heart.

We should be well into sandal season by the time I get to wear them.  In the meantime, it appears I shall have time to do a great many things around the house that I haven’t had time or motivation (or time and motivation at the same time) to tackle.  When this war is over, I envision having a clean, well-organized home.  I’m also going to lose weight, write my first novel, and teach my dogs some manners.

My hopes may be a bit overblown, but this I know:  this too shall pass.

Happy Saturday, y’all.  What are you doing to take care of you?

This little piggie. . .

img_4698This has been a long time coming.  For the better part of three years, I’ve been battling a Plantars Wart that was successfully treated but then morphed into hyperplasia and the callus from hell.  No amount of intervention short of surgery by the Cutie Pie Foot Doc, aka Kevin Brown, DPM, helped. 

The real tragedy of this situation is that I have not been able to wear cute shoes for many of the days during those three years.  Or if I did wear cute shoes, I was only able to wear them for an hour or two before I had to take them off.  I have found myself barefoot in some strange situations:  my son’s wedding in Spain, waiting on an Uber after the Andrea Boccelli concert in the Columbus snow, and routinely at the office.  I have walked barefoot down city streets, through the Dollar General and all sorts of other places in the course of my daily living.  West Virginia girl or no, this got to be silly.

BrownThe Cutie Pie Doc did, about every three months, effect a debridement of the 4th toe of my left foot which is a fancy way of saying he dug out the callus while I gasped in pain.  For a few weeks afterward, I would be fine — wearing cute shoes, walking, dancing, and, generally, carrying on as I am wont to do, but then the callus would develop, constrict my toe, and cause pain significant enough to affect my walking ability.  When my mom and I went to see the Vietnam Memorial in D.C., I spent a lot of time sitting on a park bench and Uber-ing rather than walking and sightseeing.  It was about that time that I said, “Enough.”

I went to see the Cutie Pie Doc again where I repeated my “Enough” and he too said, “Enough.”  We agreed on surgical intervention.

So, yesterday at noon I made my way to the surgery center and had my 4th piggie, the one that had none, shortened, tendons moved, arthritis dug out, and a temporary pin inserted.  All of that took, according to Cutie Pie, ten minutes.  Now neverimg_4697mind, that I went hours and hours and yet even more hours without morning coffee, it was worth it.  Granted, I am on pain pills, but even with a heavily bandaged foot and a pin, mind you, a pin, I am experiencing less pain.  Plus I get to stay home from work for a few days.

The downside is the sexy surgical sandal I must wear for two weeks.  Oh.  And the pin sticking out of the top of my foot.  If you look at the photo of my foot at the beginning of this post closely enough you can see the pin.

But I can do this.  Yes, I can.  I can.  Like I said, already there is less pain.  And I get to wallow on my beloved sofa and eat junk food wee, wee, wee all the way home for a few days free of work responsibilities and housecleaning responsibilities.  It’s a mini-vacation!

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