Memoirs of a Bunionectomy

Le bunionectomie: a memoir

IMG_2591 2

i began recovery/hibernation by keeping daily tabs of my doings (or lackthereof) so we could all have a good lol here on wordpress at what is likely the least productive chunk of my life ever to be recorded, past present or future. i finally revisited these little notes months later & i think it’s time to unleash my suffering on the blogshhpehre. i like to think i’m a beacon of hope to the other hashtag bunionistas out there & when you finish reading this, doubtless you’ll agree.
DEC 19th. 2014
day 1 – i watch south park loudly from behind my pre surg hospital curtain, waiting for my toes to be broke, bashed, bettered, & bandaged, funsies. post surg grumps. Watch Despicable Me with the beb, Charliezel.
day 2 through day 5 – Drug addled, Tarantino napathon……the kill bills, resi dogs. jackie brown. pulp. The whole gang.
day 6 – xmas eve. frustration with crutches infiltrates my psyche. my armpits hurt, k. Failure to participate in church related doings. Made Phillip watch repulsive rom com at home in lieu of churchgoing. jude law.
day 7 – XMAS. I am lavished with gifts by my loving famiglia. Forgot a present for Phil (it’s fine, he gets one eventually). i continue to be useless. This marks one week of couch toading. Oh the humanity!
day 8 – my first venture out of the domicile in one week, almost to the minute. making a scene, in my fresh as fk cripple boot. Heads turn. The big event takes place at THE NOPAL con mi hermano. Suspected ridicule by shady waiters. Too involved with tacos to care. salsa bliss.
day 9 – Morning spent getting intimate with my mortar and pestle listening to xmas music, because I only get in the holiday spirit after the holiday ends. Got in that real fierce arm workout. i mentally plan a series of workout dvds titled death by mortar & pestle where i lead a variety of mortar & pestle based, high intensity, fat burning, upper body workouts. Grinding rice to break the thing in like the directions say to is hard. Erin & Brizzle are hungover and it’s fun to watch. I leave the house TWICE! For potle && dq, which is not remotely embarrassing.
day 10 – Relatives arrive. skype with au pair fams & try to hide my foot from them, which is not hard because why would my foot be in the camera view? silly me. Ul/uk basketball, that i did not watch because I’m a mope. a ceremonious opening of my college degree takes place while i lay in the middle of the staircase, faint from exhaustion (i only have one leg to climb it with), bearing closer resemblance to a hobbit than a graduate. a really, really, really moving ceremony. an Unbelievably anticlimactic (ominously predictive) end to college.
day 11– Erin & fam depart. maybe for the best since enough embarrassing photos of my struggle to de/ascend staircases have been taken to fill the space between here & the sun, whose rays i haven’t seen since october. in a heartwrenching goodbye, the baby & hounds are taken. depression sets in like a thick early spring am fog. I begin living recklessly. Getting crafty, bold with my crutching manoeuvers on the stairs & elsewhere. danger is my middle name. It’s a miracle I don’t plummet from the top step.
day 12 – foot doc appt! In a most diabolical procedure, my stitches are removed. Except they’re not stitches. They are staples. Vom. I insistently share the staple removal video that i took (because i’m twisted) at our nice fam dinner, thus securing my position as the familial pariah. i remain unconcerned about the effect my inability to ambulate will have on my naturally hawt physique. i should be fearful.
day 13 – NYE brunch with my old GE intern homies. I watch someone eat an oily calzone later in the day. we party like its 1995 for the new year. meaning, i attend the vilest house party, teetering dangerously (literally, & perhaps figuratively), intoxicated on crutches, navigating the liquid covered floor. I am tiny tim, with a drinking problem. i eat a cookie of unknown origin during countdown to midnight. get at me boys.
day 14 – sunny disposition is nowhere to be found. Hungover. Nap a heap.  baked brie happens. I get yelled at. proceed to nap 6 more hrs. Rise from the dead at 1130pm. Disoriented, I watch a movie.
day 15 – get down to business with the war & peace endeavour. tolstoy is my homeboy.
day 16 – Bagels. do a naked lap around Costco on the crutchez, causing pedestrian mayhem, blocking aisleways (which is hard to do, they’re elephant sized). i am a fire hazard & am asked to leave. i wasn’t really naked.
day 17 – skype more spaniards. phil collins fest. I am later reprimanded – it’s genesis. but actually it’s the same thing. Ok. spend the remainder of the day pretending im at tomorrowland via youtube.
day 18 – Spend the day cultivating Sting centered mania. overdose on photoshop & illustrator tutorials; learned is also my middle name. realizing i don’t do moderation.
day 19 – re-evaluating my future, per usual. war & peacing. painting. Flamingo hopping has yielded a sculpted left leg & bum, contrasting with the atrophied right. goodie.
day 20 – i eat breakfast. Begin testing reactions on “I’m going to Korea”. Mostly horror stricken “why” responses.
day 21 – entire day spent loafing/reading. discover panoramic map of Alps. continue to pretend i can’t exercise. i’ve steadily enlarged to a chubby undefinable mass.
day 22 – hubba hubba, first day of walking. kind of / not quite, since I’m still in the tragic looking boot. I rediscover tea. realize all my energy (a looot of skype rendezvous) spent on au pair things was to no avail, but decidedly not wasted. it was fun. and totes awk.
all in all, Not so dreadful. it’s been mostly smooth sailing ever since day 22. april is already here & i’m moonwalking like michael jackson.
things i still can’t do yet: 1) yoga (plank position is a bitch), which is fine because yoga sux. 2) push ups using my tippie toes (sadly, my personal fave). 3) running. 4) pick things up w my new foot/toes (& it’s starting to really bug me). 5) wear flip flops (hmpfff). 6) math (…unrelated).
i’m also having post traumatic toe removal disorder where i have delusions that my old toe was better looking & functioning cuz i still cant bend this new guy. (i didn’t have a toe removed, this has stopped making sense).
day 267

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s