Back in December, I was in my studio sewing away when I heard a thump, a yelp, and an expletive or two. I rushed to the bedroom to find my beloved hopping around on one foot while grabbing the other.
He said, ”I stubbed my toe on the %$#@ corner of the bed frame.” He flopped on the bed and moaned and groaned. I was mildly sympathetic and went back to work.
In the scheme of things in our life at that moment a stubbed toe was nothing. Little did we know that in less than two weeks we would be boarding a plane to Guadalajara with his cardiologist so that my mate of 29 years could have an emergency implantation of a pacemaker.
Back to THE TOE, it bloomed purple and red; the nail turned brown. The weight of the bed sheet was too much to bear—just like when you bite the inside of your cheek, and keep biting it for days, everywhere my beloved went, he bumped that toe.
“Soak it in hot water” I said.
“Go see a doctor “, I said again.
It was like spitting in the wind. My sage words fell on deaf ears. My interest in THE TOE was, well, let’s say, it was not rapt. I mean, I am in the middle of a particularly interesting segment of Project Runway when he wants me to look at his toe. Is he serious? So it went for months.
Some real tragedies intervened in our lives and The Toe was no longer center stage. I asked around, but discovered there was no podiatrist in La Paz.
Ah, but we did have a very good esthetician (beautician that also does nails). Her name is Rocio and she is a warm, funny, and talented woman. She agreed to try to work on THE TOE. On her first attempt, Rocio could not get near
THE TOE. The pain and related drama was too much.
So off to the doctor we went. The good doctor prescribed a heavy duty topical cream containing xylocaine. We bought the cream and headed to Rocio’s salon. She was ready with her foot bath and tools.
She applied the cream, crossed herself, and said, “I’m going in.” She did not get far. At her first tentative touch, my darling screamed in pain.
Well I was not letting this opportunity pass; we had him in the chair and his foot in the bath.
“Hey, Rocio,” I said. “Do you think the dentist upstairs would be willing to give him a shot in THE TOE?”
She cocked her head, thought a moment, and said, “Yes, I bet she would. Let me go ask.” So upstairs she went. And came back in a few minutes with a big smile and told us the doc would be right down.
And down she came with one of those giant, scary stainless steel horse syringes dentists love to use. She had two ampoules as well. She asked a few health questions; when she heard that my beloved had a pacemaker, she switched ampoules and fired away. I had to hold him down in the chair. I could feel his pain. But in a few minutes, THE TOE was numb and Rocio got right to work. Did I mention that there was a woman having her hair colored while this drama played out? We probably made her day.
So the cost? One pedicure, a blow dry for me, and the dentist’s visit: $400.00 pesos, around $32.00. The value: Priceless.
I had been trying for years to get my beloved to enjoy the wonders of a regular pedicure. He would not even consider it. WELL, now he is having monthly pedicures “for medical reasons”. Really, he will not admit he enjoys them, he just says he needs them to keep his feet healthy and he cannot bend like he used to. Whatever!