Playing chicken with a coffee table...

Happy New Year! I know, I'm late! But not by too long. So first, lets play a little catchup, shall we?

We will start with a very painful game of chicken. This game, of course was played subconsciously. That or my toe plots against me. Anyway, it happened not even a week before Christmas day. I was not paying attention to where I was walking & Odin (yes, I will blame my dog!) was in the way. I attempted to go around him while on my way to the restroom & BAM! My toe, well make that toes, bent all the way back, complete with a very loud & disturbing cracking sound.

I lost it. I screamed my head off & the tears were just coming out faster than I could wipe them away. I was a mess & the Mister had just left for work. I thought I had broken toes before, but apparently not, because I had never experienced it like this. I only wanted two things, one of course was for the pain to stop & two, for Mr. B to come home. Both of which I knew were not going to happen any time soon. 

So I did what anyone would do... I posted about it on Facebook. Yep, what else was I to do? There was no way I was driving myself across town to the emergency room & I knew it wouldn't be the best option to have the Mister come home. Luckily my Dad, who lives all the way in California called me within a few minutes of my post to make sure I was alright. Which I wasn't, not yet anyway. I was freaking out & he told me to really & to get some ice out of the freezer. He also told me to elevate my foot as much as possible. I don't know how that day would have went without that phone call, but he really helped me calm down & he even offered to pay for a taxi to take me to the doctor. Which I declined, because I know that they won't do much for broken toes.

My toe started to swell, but it didn't bruise right away. The Mister came home & I balled to him. I felt bad because I was supposed to be baking cookies for his families visit the following day. I of course had not had a chance because I was sitting with my foot in the air all afternoon. He told me not to worry, he ordered pizza so I wouldn't have to cook & even did the dishes for me. He also offered to help me bake the cookies in the morning. I felt like such a lucky lady.

Mr. B didn't think it was broken. There was no bruising, yet. But the next morning, I awoke to a deep purple nearly black bruise at the base of my two middle toes. There was no doubt about it... at least one of my toes was broken.

And, if I had not mentioned how much of a klutz I truly am, here it is now. I have since stubbed my broken toe three times. Yep. Not very fun. It is now almost a month later & it still hurts. Especially when it is cold... like it has been the past couple weeks here in Pennsylvania. But that's for a different blog.

So, if you take anything from this blog... Don't play chicken with a coffee table. They hardly ever move out of the way. It's just not worth the risk. ;)

Four days after it broke.

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