Thursday, November 13, 2008

Bunions Be Gone

( Pics are not of me obviously as I have yet to classify as "post-op"except in my fantasies plus mine are more wrinkly.)

On Tuesday I say goodbye to the dreaded bunions at long last and very good riddance to the little buggers I say. My right foot especially has turned into a very poor apology for a foot (despite the red toenail polish which, although the orthopaedic surgeon rather fancied it, stopped well short of transforming the flawed fetlock into anything remotely resembling sexy!).

The upside will be, eventually, normal looking human feet which can take a bit of pounding occasionally - in other words toe the line - as it were. The downside is that I will be somewhat of a crock afterwards, hopefully not too immobilised but initially perhaps forced into the indignity of a walking frame (I'll fit right into the demographic in the Mitcham Shopping Centre however). I will also be besporting charmingly green coloured surgical boots, for I understand six weeks. Although these will do nothing at all for my occasional attempts at stylishness, as the specialist suggested, rather than try and hide them (how could you anyway) I think I will "make a statement" and cleverly team them with … well everything. Perhaps it will start a trend. People will gasp as they see me and demand to know where I got those fabulous boots.

Anyway once I survive the ordeal I will let all my similarly afflicted (bunion-wise) friends know just what a breeze it all was, or alternatively what a hideously excruciatingly painful nightmare it was - perhaps the latter as it doesn't hurt to milk every opportunity for sympathy in these tough times. I will of course be a model patient for my dear sister who is doing her Florence Nightingale bit and coming to nurse me back to wholeness for a week after my surgical experience. Thank God she is, as the dogs are notoriously hopeless at breakfast in bed or shopping or washing or anything that doesn't instantly and directly benefit their own little selves. No doubt they will be bashing at the door for walkies as soon as I set boot inside the house again.

Well onward and upward, or onward and best foot forward in this case. I will be brave and focus on slipping into some smart sexy summer sandals in my new feet, without a gargoyle like protrusion ruining the effect. Of course once the feet are refurbished, the rest of the bodily premises may look a tad shabby by comparison and rather like house renovation, once you start, where the hell do you stop!