My toes & Me
Posted January 19, 2011on:
The other day as I was reading in bed I looked at my toes and decided they were not so bad after all.
For any psychiatrists ready to analyze me, let me say I have had a thing that my toes didn’t measure up for only 20 years. It all began when a friend of my daughter’s looked at my feet and announced, “Weird toes.”
From that moment on, I hesitated showing them to the world. It is not a problem in January in Wisconsin, but it gets hot in July and August. I really need to wear sandals.
During chemotherapy, I added injury to insult with all sorts of toe problems. I developed a terrible itch that turned into an infection in one little piggy – the one that cried all the way home.
Antibiotics relieved the problem for a time but then it returned until finally a podiatrist noted a fungal infection underlying the bacterial infection. Once that was treated, I became itch free.
Chemotherapy did one other thing – created black stripes in my finger and toenails. Truly, they were weird toes. And a couple toenails are still thicker than normal.
I mentioned this insult to Maggie a year or so ago. She wondered why in the world I would care what a little girl said to me. She kindly suggested I get over it, which was a very good idea.
I’ll never have perfect toes, but now, looking at them I can say proudly,”weird no more.” I’m ready for sandals weather. That, of course, is easy to say when it’s January in Wisconsin.