I'm sorry. Your regularly scheduled joke cannot be funny tonight. My muse called in sick. She says she broke her funny bone. I laughed. Never laugh at a muse with a broken funny bone. Now she says she is taking permanent leave of my senses.
My poor toesies! The Ingrown Toenail Monster has developed a taste for my tender tootsies. It gnaws away at them, then leaves them alone long enough to grow some nice skin and nail, but then like a burglar who breaks in and steals a bunch of old crap that you didn't like anyway; but them he comes back after your insurance has replaced your stolen old crap with brand new stuff and this time he steals your new stuff; the Ingrown Toenail Monster comes back to gnaw its way back into your tender new toe flesh to send you back to the doctor to rip it out again!
Am I being just a bit overdramatic here? I am, after all, a professional hypochondriac with some real health issues and legitimate complaints -- and then I go and spoil your sympathies for poor little ole me by whining about an ingrown toenail? But it hurts! Fortunately, due to my technical inadequacies, I am unable to transfer pictures from my phone to my computer, so I will have to spare you the gory colour photos of my latest "permanent" solution to the problem of ingrown toenails: the -Vandenbos procedure. I am going to attempt to give you a link to a YouTube video of a whole gory close up of an actual surgery just like the one that I had done:
Lovely, isn't it!?! Now my toesies will be rosies -- as soon as the second infection goes away.
