Life's Not Easy as a Gimp

So without going into all the gory details...and without pictures as I'm sure most of you don't really want to see pictures of the bottom of my foot...I will tell the story of my new disability.

Approximately two months ago I had a pain in the ball of my foot that refused to go away. After ignoring it for a week or so, I finally told my dad about it. (For anyone who doesn't know, my dad is a nurse). He examined, and pushed around, and asked "does this hurt?" and concluded that there was something in my foot that didn't belong there...and was thus causing the pain. So right there in his office, with a resident looking on, he started digging in my foot. Unfortunately, he didn't have a light to hold over his work...so he wasn't sure he got everything out of it...though he definitely got something. After the foot stopped hating that we'd dug around in it...the pain seemed to subside.

However...surprise! It came back while I was on my honeymoon. Joy! When the pain started to become bad to the point that I had to hobble around rather than walk like a normal human being, I consulted my mother-in-law. She concluded that I either had a corn or a plantar's wart. Either way, the solution she suggested was the corn remover pads. We picked some up that same day and I began the treatment.

I have to admit that I had a hard time with the pads. I must have a super sweaty foot because they kept coming off. So I gave up after a few days...and then a week later gave in to using them again because the pain was still bothering me. To make sure the pad stayed in place...I used medical tape. lol. I dunno if you know much about the corn pads...but basically it kills the flesh where you put it, so you can dig out the skin until you get the core of the nasty little guy.

Tyler faithfully helped me dig dead skin out of my foot for about a week. We thought we'd finally found a core...but it slipped away from us. I felt like we'd dug about half my foot out by this point...and I was still in pain. So I took things to my dad again, and asked him if I should keep digging around. He told me that Tyler's pocket knife was maybe not the best surgical approach, and recommended I start using band-aids and neosporin to save my foot from further digging or a possible infection. Not knowing what else to do, Dad told me that next time I was in Utah he'd look at it again.

Then...my dad talked to a podiatrist friend of his. After hearing my symptoms and how many methods we'd used to try and fix the pain (and now the crazy hole in my foot that was quickly becoming a big lump of callused skin and scar tissue), he concluded that I just might have something known as a neuroma. He told me to start taking 800 mg of Ibuprofen every 8 hours, and report back in a week or so.

I immediately started dosing myself...and then googling my new condition. My dad later let me know that googling was maybe not the best choice. He said most sites will pick the worst case scenario to tell you about medical stuff. Try googling neuroma sometime...and you might understand why I spent the next week and a half in terror that my foot would never be the same again. But for those who would rather not google it...a neuroma is damaged nerves. The internet agreed with the beginning diagnosis I'd been given of filling up on an anti-inflammatory. But then it said that if that doesn't fix the problem...you have to get steroid injections...and then maybe surgery. But of course there are a million things that could go wrong in the surgery and it might permanently damage the foot...or the neuroma may come back and you'd have to have surgery again...terrifying!

I became more and more frantic the longer time dragged on. My foot wasn't getting any better, and I'd only skipped one dose of my ibuprofen! I talked to my dad again, who told me it was time to see a doctor in my area.

So today I went to the Student Health Center on campus. Because Tyler and I have health insurance through the school...before I can go anywhere else, I have to go to the SHC. They seemed nervous when they saw that the secretary had written down that I had come in because of a "lump." Very descriptive.

I got the opinion of two doctors, and they both agreed (after examining my foot with a fancy microscope thing with a flashlight on it) that I did not have the dreaded neuroma...but rather a plantar's wart. They told me they could see the "seeds." Gross.

So the doctor says, "would you like me to treat it?" "Sure," I naively respond. Of course I want this thing fixed! It's making it impossible to walk! "Okay, I'll be right back with the scalpel and liquid nitrogen and we can freeze it off." Woah...wait...what?!

Maybe you didn't know...but I have an intense fear of the following things (among others...) 1-doctors offices 2-sharp objects. Yes, this does include SCALPELS!!! 3-doctors WIELDING sharp objects. At this point I told the doctor I would lie back on the pillow and go to my happy place...to try and calm down my shaking body. I figured if I was shaking it might make it hard for her to properly dig into my foot with her creepy sharp tool.

It was painful. It hurt a lot. Thank goodness it is all over. However, it's not over. Seven hours later, I still feel like someone is spraying liquid nitrogen on my foot. And yes, I do hobble around. Much worse now, I think. Tyler laughs at me. I use just my heel and kinda drag myself along...needless to say I spend most of my time on the couch.

Hopefully it gets better from here though! After two months I am definitely ready to be done with the limping and the pain and getting up at 7 am to take four 200 mg ibuprofens with (gag) milk. And hopefully I can make it through work tomorrow without looking like I should LIVE in the assisted living center instead of WORK there!