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Wood, the number 2, and I do!   —   Health

Yesterday was our 2nd year wedding anniversary. To celebrate we went to a lovely Indian/Thai restaurant called the Kalga Kafe, whose atmosphere set the mood with its dark interior and interesting music. Afterward we spent the evening drinking wine by candlelight on our front porch and talking. That's right folks, after nearly nine years together we still find conversation with each other stimulating. Fancy that.

Yesterday morning however was decidedly less romantic. Ironically not five days after I'd written the post, A Puzzling Affair, telling the story of when I was four I stepped on a toothpick and had half of it embedded in my heel for two weeks, did I get yet another piece of wood jammed into the meat of my foot so deep that I couldn't fish it out myself. You see, I was sliding around on our hardwood floors in my stocking feet, like you do, when WHAM POW, a half inch of wood buries itself into the ball of my foot. After spending a good thirty minutes with a needle and tweezers trying desperately to dig that sucker out, and then another hour of so swearing loudly, crying, yelling and screaming, I finally broke out a jigsaw puzzle, pulled the coffee table up to the couch, popped in a Gilmore Girl episode, and waited for the doctor to return my call. I wasn't able to get an appointment until the following morning so I spent the duration of the day and evening limping around the apartment, severely pissed off. Good times. Yesterday morning after limping ten blocks to the doctor's office, I laid down on a table while the good doctor spent the next fifteen minutes digging a crater in my foot muttering things like "wow, this is really deep", and "hm, I wonder how long the wood is". Of course my mind is responding to his comments with "dirty!", but I'm biting my lip and trying not to kick him in the face. Finally after what seemed like a very long archaeological dig, I hear "ah!" and I feel a splintery slide from my flesh. I sit up and see a half inch of my floor sitting in a metal tray, mocking me with the relatively smallness of its size, compared to the largeness of its bite. Because while I expected on my wedding anniversary that I would be having some interaction with wood, I didn't anticipate there being a homosexual MD involved. Dirty!

Posted 8.30.2007 10:11:06 PM

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Necrophon wrote:
Congratulations on two years! :) And sorry to hear about the foot, hope you feel better soon. :(
Posted 8/31/2007 1:37:29 AM - Necrophon's website
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