![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
NOT DEAD, JUST HOBBLING
Dec. 15th, 2009 11:58 amSo yesterday I developed this hilarious problem where my left foot didn't work. This escalated through the day (I would like to take a moment here to casually mention how I didn't go home sick, but worked the full shift) and when I got home, the whole front of my foot was red and swollen.
So I called in sick for today, and hobbled off to the doctor. Where, by the way, they have rudimentary free wireless, and I got to see enough of my flist to note that transphobia is apparently acceptable if you don't like the person in question, so way to go with the rampant bigotry, fandom.
The doctor took a look at my foot, and said that if not for my medical history, he'd suspect gout. He agreed that it was probably an arthritic flare up, but he wanted to be sure it wasn't a stress fracture, so he sent me off for x-rays.
Naturally, once I got the 'rays, I opened the envelope up to get a look at the letter inside. And in very plain English, it said I have a cyst in the distal end of the first metatarsal. Okay, that's not the plainest English ever, but if I recall my ninth grade health class (and believe me, I did try to forget it), it means there's a cyst in the front of the big toe.
Now I'm at the library, using their free wireless to figure out what that means, and if I'll be good to work by Thursday. Good times. Good, hobbling times.
So I called in sick for today, and hobbled off to the doctor. Where, by the way, they have rudimentary free wireless, and I got to see enough of my flist to note that transphobia is apparently acceptable if you don't like the person in question, so way to go with the rampant bigotry, fandom.
The doctor took a look at my foot, and said that if not for my medical history, he'd suspect gout. He agreed that it was probably an arthritic flare up, but he wanted to be sure it wasn't a stress fracture, so he sent me off for x-rays.
Naturally, once I got the 'rays, I opened the envelope up to get a look at the letter inside. And in very plain English, it said I have a cyst in the distal end of the first metatarsal. Okay, that's not the plainest English ever, but if I recall my ninth grade health class (and believe me, I did try to forget it), it means there's a cyst in the front of the big toe.
Now I'm at the library, using their free wireless to figure out what that means, and if I'll be good to work by Thursday. Good times. Good, hobbling times.
