Sunday, June 28, 2009

It Is All About My Toe Now

It is all about my toe. My toe hurts.

I smashed my toe while moving a couch. The couch weighs about as much as an iron bull being ridden by Mike Tyson. Give or take a few pounds. I'm not sure whether it was the couch, the bull, or Mike Tyson -- it was a disorderly scene -- but something very heavy and hereby damned to hell fell on my toe, damaging the toe nail and cutting my toe UNDER the nail. Blood, pain, hellfire, embarrassment in front of the wife, instantly transformed from burly man of strength to a wretched thing hopping awkwardly making little drowning coughing sounds.

Blood in the bathtub, hot, dizzy in the head. No. It cannot end like this.

On my back, near the air conditioner, foot in the air. My wife saw me and gasped. My boy meanwhile laughed at the sight of Papa on the floor. "Do we need to take you to the emergency room?" she asked.

"It is too late," I told her. "It is the end. I am summing up my thoughts."

The universe now in orbit around my suffering little piggie, I thought on how to dispense my few belongings and what my final words might be. Perhaps the bellydancing academy would consider naming itself after me, since I fell in the duty of clearing our living room for a bellydancing class. My wife thought I was sexy before I hopped and squealed. A glorious high, followed by the inevitable fall. "Once..." I wrote in my eternity journal, a moleskin thing secured with an elastic band, "Once I was a burly man of strength, able to change my environment at will with my arms and my back. To build myself a kingdom was simply a matter of action. And yet, for want of a toenail..."

I could not bear to complete the thought. I hurled the moleskin journal and gazed at the ceiling, pain throbbing, my wife had removed the child so he would not see the horrific sight of his father, fallen. Then her voice, from another room:

"What do you want to do for dinner?"

Sweet angel, maintaining routine for the child's sake. She was strong. She would go on, while I rode my toe off into the vanishing point beyond this mortal coil. All would be well.

"Do you want to split this beer with me?"


And off I went. To live. Yes, to live. The indomitable survival instinct. A miracle: to walk, to sip, to live again!

My toe hurts.


Kelly said...

Awwwww, you poor thing. Toe injuries can be debilitating, so you have my sincere sympathy.

I also tend to laugh at inappropriate moments so it's probably a good thing I wasn't there to witness the event.

Betcha lose the toenail....

Pam said...

You have joined the ranks of the cripples, Alg. I'm doomed to hobble around ( and I haven't slowed down!), painfully, for the majority of the summer. My daughter has broken one of her toes, and is limited on her choice of shoes at the moment.

Sounds like a foot and toe kind of summer.

Ah yea, I tend to, like my sister, laugh when people fall or falter, myself included.

Probably why I enjoy the show "Wipeout". :)

I feel for your pain. I KNOW how much that hurts!! And will hurt for some time to come!!!

Here's healing thoughts for a swift recovery from one gimp to another.

Hal Johnson said...

Yikes. Well, I'm glad that it didn't happen while you were looking at another woman's breasts.