Yesterday I day surgery in South Perth Hospital for a lump of bone to be removed from my foot. It had been growing slowly over the past 5 or 6 years and I had always believed it to be a bunion. However, bunions are always on the side of the foot by the toe joint. Mine was on top of the joint. I can remember being told that my feet were exactly like my Grandad's. As a girl, I was shocked to see him cutting a hole in his sandal and damaging his footware for the sake of comfort.
My little foot problem didn't seem to need any attention till this year's Camino, when my hiking boots started rubbing it. A wound developed which got infected. I couldn't walk any further, but I had decided to stop anyway because the weather was cold and miserable and all the rain was causing the stream crossings on high granite stepping stones to worry me, walking on my own with a backpack weighing me down.
So on returning home I opted for surgery. I arrived before 7.00 am and was hanging around for two hours waiting my turn. These procedures are short, so there is a production line of patients ready to go.
Now here is the amazing thing: the anaesthetist was injecting something into my drip, while his nurse told me to keep my eyes open for as long as I could and think of something nice. But I had dropped off to sleep before I'd had time to think of anything. When I woke up, it seemed as if only 5 minutes had passed and I thought I was still waiting to go into the theatre. I couldn't believe it till they showed me the clock and then my foot, all bandaged up and inside a rigid shoe.
When I came home by taxi in the afternoon, I discovered that JL had crashed my Prius into the security gate of our underground carpark. Not a great homecoming!
|Photo taken in early April in Salamanca|