Big Hall goes to the Doctor

Okay so here's the thing. My big toe, a.k.a. Big Hall, has been hurting me for about 9 months now. I first went to my doctor in December and told her of the pain I was experiencing in my toe. The x-rays showed some arthritis in the joint.

Six months later my toe has gotten a lot worse; I can't walk for any length of time without my foot swelling, my toe throbbing, and me limping. I was tired of pussy-footing around (pardon the pun) and made an appointment with an orthopaedic specialist. I've seen these doctors before for other problems.

The doctor made a quick examination of my toe, bending it this way and that, all the while I winced and whimpered. He thought the best plan of action was a cortisone shot right in the joint.

"Is it going to hurt?" I asked, like I was a little kid.

"Just a little," he replied as he left the room to get supplies.

He lied like a mother tucker.

First he had to grab my toe.

Problem number one. The ticklish factor.

Okay I can deal with that. But I thought it best if I lie down on the examining table so I didn't have to watch him do his dirty deed.

Then came the small prick. Didn't think I'd ever complain about that, but, yes, it did hurt. But it wasn't intolerable.

The doctor kept telling me to breathe and he imitated breathing like the Lamaze method where you take short breaths and breathe fast.

Let me tell you, this was worse than freaking labor.

Not only did he move that dagger of a needle back and forth, but he also bent my toe, my poor, poor SORE toe, forward and backwards, till I was letting out a blood curdling scream.

Not a short one, either.

A continuous one.

How embarrassing. I actually tried to bite down on my arm to quiet my scream, like in the olden days when they made the child-bearing mother bite down on a wooden spoon, but then I realized I'd only be hurting myself even MORE.

He was lucky I didn't kick him in the nuts.

I probably WOULD HAVE, but that was my bad foot.

I had to lie there a few minutes to gather myself together. The doctor came over by me, rubbed my arm, gave me his puppy-dog-eyed look and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes", I said.

But what I WANTED to say was, "Whaddya think? You just about broke my toe off, then jabbed a needle in so far that it came out the other side of my toe? Here, let me do it to YOU!"

After the torturing was over, the doctor dictated in a small recorder while I sat there. He started out by saying my name, my age, that I was a "well-nourished" (read rotund) female. I actually laughed out loud at that part. Then he went on to state my height and weight. Thank GOD Jim wasn't in the room with me or I would have a decision to make - who was closer - slap my hand over the doctor's mouth - or clamp my hands over Jim's ears. Whew! Sure am glad I told Jim to wait outside!

I was relaying this story to my sister, and when I got to the part about how the doctor called me "well-nourished" she said, "How does he know that?"

I said, "Well, by looking at me!"

It took a second to realize that because of my laryngitis, she thought I said, "well-NURSED" instead of "well-nourished".

Now I see her confusion!

It is now four hours since the cortisone shot, and my toe feels worse than when I went into the doctor. It is throbbing and so painful. I sure hope this shot kicks in soon.

Or I'll have to kick somebody's a$$!

I called the doctor's office to find out why my toe is hurting so much. This is what they said.

"There are two different reactions to cortisone shots. Some people have immediate relief. Other people have a temporary relief, then as the day goes on they have excruciating pain that lasts from 12-24 hours. That is the cortisone trying to do its job."

Great. So now I'm propped up in bed with ice on my throbbing FOOT, mascara smeared down my face from my tears, my voice is still hoarse, and I have my lap top, my book, a magazine, and all the remotes at my fingertips. I'm good for the night. That is, until I have to get up to pee.