Just plain ouch.
Because I’ve had malignant melanoma, doctors enjoy cutting out funny-looking spots on my skin. I don’t have a problem with this. I like being alive. It’s a habit I would like to continue for the fifty years or so. Plus, when they cut out the spots, it usually doesn’t hurt too much. Not a big deal, right?
Not a big deal until yesterday when they cut out a big spot on the bottom of my foot.
Wicked, wicked ouch. You don’t want all the details…. let’s just say that when a doctor approaches the sole of your foot with a scalpel and says the incision will only need two layers of stitches, you might want to run. I couldn’t run, of course, because by that time they had shot the foot full of novocaine and it wasn’t working very well. He sliced and diced, I bled, and then he sewed me up. I’m sure he did a great job, but ouch.
Right now it feels like a large wolf is gnawing through my foot. Walking anywhere? Hysterical laughter. My butt is parked today. Bathroom trips have to be planned out well in advance because I can travel only with crutches or on my rear end. This is good news for my revision, though. I am spending all day with the computer in my lap and my foot in the air.
The irony here? One of the characters in my WIP has an accident that leads to the bottom of her foot being sliced open, and stitches, and hobbling around of crutches. I stuck that scene in the book back in MAY, long before I knew this surgery was going to happen. That’s right sdn, my life is imitating my books…. again. Remind me not to ever make my characters have a car crash.
(In climate news, it got down to -12 degrees here last night. We’ve warmed up to a balmy 8 degrees in the sun right now.)