Well, surgery happened. Three toes straightened, screwed and fused with hardware and a bunionectomy thrown in for good measure.

Today was my first post-op visit, and I was excited to see the new piggies with no dressings.

Escorted by the chipper nurse, I hopped up on the exam table ready to go.

The nurse proceeded to take the wrapping off a layer at a time—it was like a little football. Then there it was, my sausage foot with two rows of lateral stitches on the top and one up the middle toe—not the F*** u “floating toe” mind you, that started this whole remodel job, but its sister next to it and the big toe. It was wrapped extra, and the nurse couldn’t get it off.

Well, the whole foot had straight toes, Woo hoo. It looked like a successful foot repair! I see a pedicure in my future! I’m quite happy.

In comes the Doctor in his crisp white coat, shakes my hand, “good to see you again.” How’s the toe business? I chirp. “Ok” but no chuckle. He sat down on his rolling stool and got to work, and took the remaining dressing off the toe next to the big toe. His face stayed flat, looking somewhat concerned. Hmm….he cleans the 2^nd toe and pushes on it. 

Ouch.

“Im not liking this; “It’s dusky on the tip.”  Oh, fuc, my nurse brain thinks. Houston, we have a problem. He pushes and prods around it, which I feel, but the tip feels nothing. The toe is pink up until the tip, he says. Like a clog in the plumbing stopped things just before the finish line. This can’t be good.

“The other toes look fine,” he adds. He then tells me (which I knew already) how this particular hammer toe was severely bent in surgery.   When he released the 1st joint, it did not “pink up.” He waited, then released the 2nd joint, which was not part of the repair, and then it pinked up. So he then fused it. He was concerned it wasn’t all pink now… “Sometimes this happens, it’s rare,” he says.

Last time I heard the “rare” word was when I was diagnosed with ass cancer, it’s a rare one they said” butt………Watch out for the butt at the end of a sentence.

He then says, “Let me take the stitches out.” One by one, he removes them on the top of the foot, and hello, it was like a needle stabbing me with each pull of the tweezers.  I had to grip the table and tap the table with the good foot. to distract the pain. Fortunately, I’m not a yeller, I told him.  “ I know you’re tough.” Then he was inches from the plumbing-challenged toe, about to take out a few stitches from it. I worried he couldn’t see it well enough, so I turned on my flashlight and leaned in. Are you sure you can see it ok? Yes, he says, annoyed by now.. It was me, I wanted a dental mirror to reach down and see what he was seeing, but he wasn’t playing dentist today.

He then removed the toenail that was falling off.

I felt nothing.

Not a good sign

He pushes back on his rolling stool, leans back, and looks solemnly at me, and says he and the toe aren’t happy.  I say yea, but the other toes are, and 4 out of 5 ain’t bad, right?    No response.

Ok then, let’s get to the point: will it turn gangrene? No, he says. (I’m sure he’s lying) Or is dusky purple the new black? “The toe has circulation except the tip” he goes on, ignoring the peanut gallery.  The rest of your foot looks good, and the circulation is fine.

Then the voice of hope rolls off his tongue: “Sometimes if it’s just the tip like this, it re-vascularizes and the small amount of dead tissue scabs over and falls off.”

Then, do I name it stubby?  I chirp. No response. It’s better than the other toe that looked like I was giving people the finger,  don’t you think, doc? No response…

Im trying hard to make him feel better than he is me.  I heard he was a perfectionist, and this possible toe loss must be painful for him.  I’m sure he must hate to tell the other docs “ Damn it, I lost one” …………………………………..a toe that is. I kept that joke to myself.

I keep trying.

“If the dead toe doesn’t re-plumb itself,  should we wait, or can you just snip off the tip now? I don’t feel anything right now.” “No,”  “just kidding,” I say.

“We need to watch it closely and see what happens”, as his nurse keeps handing him dressing material to re-wrap it all. He goes on to say he could send me to a vascular surgeon and put me through a bunch of tests, and the outcome is most likely the same. Um, sounds like a trip to Home Depot for garden shears.

In a last-ditch effort to make him smile, I say, If you chop it off, then do I get a rubber prosthesis toe to make it look normal? I’m sure I can buy one on Amazon.”   Then he finally really looked at me with “this woman must be crazy look” NO.  ok no more toe jobs for me I guess…gee tough crowd…

He the ordered a potent antibiotic that kills everything from syphilis to Malaria for me as a precaution, and wraps the crap out of the foot again with strict no weight bearing on it and come back next week to evaluate it. Let’s hope it’s ALL pink by then. Or I’m gonna have to shop for rubber toes and start drinking heavily.

Too bad the toe is not like a lizard, which loses its tail and grows another one. Maybe AI will generate one for me if it doesn’t make it.

Ok, self; Pray for the toe and stay away from future toe jobs, that’s your goal for the year.

I hop off and roll my way out, telling everyone to pray for the toe. Humming the song You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille”… by Kenny Rogers for some reason, just change a few words…. v=kulJsH8v0okhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kulJsH8v0ok

So, as a nurse, I think, how do I increase circulation?  I could drink… that always makes your face red. But it may not reach the toe, and there is a fall risk, that’s out.., or eating hot peppers; that dilates blood vessels and makes you sweat, no can’t take the ass burning on the back end, been there done that with radiation. Exercise – already doing it.  Massage, take aspirin to thin the blood. Ok. hmmmm

Apply heat! That’s it, heat brings blood to the surface. I decided to put heating pads/hot towels, etc., on the toe, hoping the heat will bring the blood to the tip. I’m also moving and wiggling the toes as best I can. And just for good measure, I’m talking to her too. “Pink up already, Lucille! Don’t leave me now…Besides, we need a pedicure, it’s been years!

So…I am massaging Lucille and telling her she’s all pretty now like the others, let’s not let the other piggies down. We’ve been through a lot together, running half marathons, traveling the world, surviving cancer…. now pink the fuc up! I know you’re not #1 like the big toe, but you support him! You’re the VP of that toe, plus you’re thinner and more attractive with great posture since your remodel. You’re the hammer toe no more! So please don’t leave, I can’t replace you.

As my sister said: If you need a new toe, I know where you can get a big one, ‘ form-fitting and rubber too.”

Thanks for that, sis, my PTSD just kicked in. And the brother is singing “this little piggy went to the doctor” song… nothing like family to cheer you up.

Then I remembered mercury was retrograde during this event. Was that it?

Only the toe knows… and my deceased mother. Too late now.

Who’s F**** idea was this surgery?

Pray for the toe

No stubby either.

I’m glad I at least tiptoed through the tulips in Amsterdam last year…

See ya next week after the next reveal.

Somewhere in Texas talking toe.

Don’t leave me, Lucille