Is That Broken?

Raise your hand if you've had your foot stomped on by a horse, any horse. I see you. Raise your hand if you've lost toenails from said foot stomping. I see you, too. Raise your hand if your pedicurist gives you an odd look every time they strip your old nail polish because your toenail is either half gone or because your nail bed is still purple eight months later. You, too? Sucks, doesn't it?

Over the weekend, my husband was grumbling about sore feet. He made me look at his "swollen" and discolored toes. I laughed about it and told him that with age comes some wear and tear. I kicked off my slippers to show him how purple my toenails are. One in particular. As I lined up both feet to compare one to the other, I shrieked in horror! One of my toes, especially the one on the right foot, the foot that Izzy stomped on several times this past summer and fall, was protruding at an odd angle.

How have I not noticed this?

Last summer and fall, Izzy stomped on my foot several times over a few months. One hit was so hard that the right side of my foot was numb for many months. For most of the fall, my foot was swollen and of course black and blue. It hurt like hell each time he did it. I never bothered to go to the doctor because I could still move my toes. And besides, what could the doctor do for a toe?

Now, as I compare my left foot to the right, it is quite obvious that that middle toe is NQR - not quite right. To prove to my husband that we all have things wrong with our feet, I gave my bent toes a big wiggle and said, see? No big deal. The next morning, my right foot was sore and aching. Sheesh! 

One thing is not like the other.

Now that I have looked more closely at the right foot, I am inclined to admit that that toe, or even more than the single toe, has been broken. Maybe more than once. Maybe more than twice.

You know, I think I am due for a pedicure!