This is where my leg went to die. Though the setting appears harmless, nothing could be farther from the truth.In situations such as these, it is always ideal to remember the good times.
And they were plentiful.
However, each time my thoughts turn to jubilation, the focus quickly shifts to the varying phases of purgatory which followed.
- It began with the subtle limping that became a full-fledged inability to walk, complete with swollen feet and legs and ridiculously sharp pains.
- The blister, which kept growing as I limped around the newsroom like a moron, eventually led to a mid-evening jaunt to the doc-in-a-box. Austin held my hand as needle was placed above my ass. After the lancing of the silver-dollar sized monstrosity, hydrocodone became a relied upon friend.
- A reduction in swelling was counteracted by frigid, hostel-esque showers and blister annexing.
- Let's not forget the itching and the changing of bandages.
- Do you want to talk about the day my shoe filled with water?
One month of unshaven legs, laying low and feeling trapped in an unfamiliar vessel has given way to a circular pink scar, a package of Mederma and intermittent patches of dark hair and peely skin.
Heading into 24, I sure feel pretty.
