Friday, September 14, 2007

What I thought was a blister...

...Actually turned out to be a plantar wart.

Around this time last year, what I thought was a giant bruise on my leg turned out to be a much worse skin condition called Cellulitis, and now I get this wart I thought was a blister. "What I thought was a _____ turned out to be a _____ instead" is starting to become a repeating theme in my life, and I'm not liking it at all.

Let's see. I worked Sunday night, and I was fine. Monday night, however, I developed a minor limp. I thought I was forming a blister on the bottom of my left foot. It's common in my line of work, being on my feet so much. So I favored my right leg (despite doctor's advice to the contrary, ironically enough) and dealt with it, figuring the occasional pressure would cause it to pop on its own.

Tuesday night, when I worked, I was seated the whole time, and with purpose. I could walk, mostly, but it hurt to walk correctly and mostly I was just dragging my left foot, or leaning on the side of it to keep pressure off the wart I still thought was a blister. Wednesday morning, I'm looking at it, and it was too thick to be a blister. Could a blister callous over like that? I figured it was possible. I tried to lance it, to no avail, with a sterilized sewing needle. Jen tried to lance it later, or maybe Wednesday night, with another sterilized needle. Around that time, Jen started noticing a black discolorization in the center of the anomaly.

Thursday afternoon I had an appointment with the doctor for my other leg, the one that I thought was a spider bite but turned out to be an ulceration caused by poor circulation. So I brought up my left foot, and the doctor quickly identified it as a plantar wart. She's pretty good; admittedly a couple times I wasn't sure, but mostly I'm faithful she's on top of things. It's just it's hard for me to trust doctors, you know, they seem to know so much and it's almost scary. So anyway, she prescribes me some salicylic acid pads, the ones you can buy over the counter for treating callouses. So I go into Walgreens and pick some up. No problem, less than $5 out the door. Easy enough to put on, and I feel a little tingling, but I guess that means they're working. Apparently they last for 48 hours, which is all I need as there are four.

Next week, apparently I get what I've always heard described as the liquid nitrogen treatment. I've never heard it called anything. Then on Wikipedia looking up the plantar wart, I see what it's called. Cryosurgery. Go ahead, say it out loud. Isn't that one of the coolest words you've heard? Sounds like something outta Star Trek, right? OK, the bad news it's described as painful on the plantar wart page, but on the Cryosurgery page it says it's a preferred method because of its minimal pain. But then it goes on to say that "Patients undergoing cryosurgery usually experience minor-to-moderate localized pain". I ain't so good with pain. I mean, I can take it, but the anticipation of it kicks my ass. And thinking about it. But I was a dumbass and made the appointment for AFTER Jen has to go to work, so she won't be by my side for it. I think I can deal, though it would be nice to be helped into the car. It's not on my driving foot, but I'm not so sure I should drive after having surgery on my foot, should I? Well, we'll figure it out.

I've talked to a couple people about "cryosurgery" and they all just blow it off saying "oh that's no big deal at all". I've never heard it equated with a root canal, and I actually went through a root canal without a single complaint. I've had the local anesthetic injected into my gums; again, no complaint.

Well, let's see. It's almost a quarter after 4 in the morning. Yes, I keep some odd hours - oh, that reminds me. I called my boss before going into work, and he said he'd try to see what he could do, but was sure I'd have to go in. I was tired, having been up 22 hours at that point and desperately needing sleep. So I get up via alarm at 8:30PM and try to call him - nothing. Dude isn't answering his phone. I call again, 10 minutes later. Again, nothing. Quarter of nine, I call again - again nothing. I leave him a message, telling him I will not be going in. I text-message the actual manager on duty, he tells me to call the day manager - they're cool with it. So I don't believe I took the night off with full blessing of my employer, but let's face facts. I got a freakin' wart on my foot. The more pressure I put on it, the harder it's gonna be to get it out. My appointment is in a week. Six days now that it's technically Friday now. About 156 hours. I might have to take the week off. He won't like it, but what can I do? I can't go to work like this. I can barely stand. I can sit on my ass just fine, but what good does that do my employer? So I need to call these people in the (later) morning and talk some sense into them. Let them know the score and what's what. I've done a lot of overtime in the past 4 and a half years I've worked for them, done a lot of favors. I've pulled a few favors of my own, but I need this.

Well now, it is quarter after 4, and my wife's taking her mom around, running a few errands in a few hours, and I intend to go with. I'll probably drive. I caught 4-5 hours earlier, but I am a bit sleepy. When you get to be my age, you can get by with a couple hours, as long as you average a decent amount each day. And for me a decent amount is six hours, though I do appreciate 8-11 hour sleep - but I can get by on 3-4 hours. Unfortunately my employer knows this about me and often thinks I can get by on less. They're probably right. Soldiers, cops, firemen, detectives, doctors, other such people get by on less, maybe I can too. But my obligations are few and sleep is an opportunity, so after a stop in the bathroom that does involve my DS, if you catch my meaning, I'll be off to dreamland (or should I say nightmareland, but my fucked up dreams are a topic for another post).

No comments: