Came home from Igloofest in the small hours of Saturday, emptied out the pockets of my coat, dropped a twoonie coin on the floor, lunged to grab it before it rolled under the oven, and somehow slipped and totally destroyed my left little toe. ( Cut for gory details. )
Long story short: doc taped it up in 15 seconds and dismissed me without an x-ray, as "it's probably broken but treatment is six weeks of taping regardless." I'm meant to stay off it, of course. I'm not cancelling Chicago as there's hardly any point - everything's prepaid and non-refundable XD; - but it'll be less of a walking holiday than I envisioned, aha. As for the rest of my schedule I'll take it as it comes. It's stopped hurting (much) and I can limp around without too much difficulty, and if it were July I would have zero compunction about taking the train to Ottawa, interviewing Bell higher-ups, etc. in my raging eccentric fashion statement yellow Crocs; but it is not July, and once it freezes and starts snowing again my outdoors mobility is done unless I can get my damned foot back into my damned boot. Still, if I have to pick three weeks out of the year to work from home and do nothing else but read John Le Carre novels, the wasteland between the end of Igloofest and my birthday is the easiest writeoff.
Long story short: doc taped it up in 15 seconds and dismissed me without an x-ray, as "it's probably broken but treatment is six weeks of taping regardless." I'm meant to stay off it, of course. I'm not cancelling Chicago as there's hardly any point - everything's prepaid and non-refundable XD; - but it'll be less of a walking holiday than I envisioned, aha. As for the rest of my schedule I'll take it as it comes. It's stopped hurting (much) and I can limp around without too much difficulty, and if it were July I would have zero compunction about taking the train to Ottawa, interviewing Bell higher-ups, etc. in my raging eccentric fashion statement yellow Crocs; but it is not July, and once it freezes and starts snowing again my outdoors mobility is done unless I can get my damned foot back into my damned boot. Still, if I have to pick three weeks out of the year to work from home and do nothing else but read John Le Carre novels, the wasteland between the end of Igloofest and my birthday is the easiest writeoff.