My middle toe has been sore since Tuesday. That was the day of my seaside frolics, so I suppose its possible that I’ve suffered an envenomation by some mysterious sea creature. Most likely culprit though would be a blister from some fabulous pair of shoes.
A plastic surgeon once said I had lovely feet – but I think she was just being nice. And I can neither confirm nor deny that that is the drawer of an anaesthetic cart that my foot is resting on. But if it was, I would have wiped it down afterwards. In an ideal world.
Anyway, I’m just waiting to see if maybe the hot, swollen, painful, redness of my toe will just be a passing phase before I start antibiotics. As any woman will tell you, being on antibiotics isn’t without its difficulties. And I’m not talking about some type of garden bird. No, I’m talking about taking flucloxacillin on an empty stomach. I’m a grazer – I aim never to have an empty stomach. What are the chances of me finding four times in the one day that I’m two hours after eating but more than an hour before the next snack? Slim, that’s what.