November 23, 2006

The Thanksgiving Post

This just isn't right for me to be blogging today, nevertheless, in the spirit of NaBloPoMo, I'll just play along and serve up another helping of blog since overdoing it is the name of the game today.

Just to give you some idea of how much I ate today, after I was done with my three pieces of pie for dessert, I got a big glass of water to wash everything down. I took a big gulp, swallowed, but nothing happened. There was simply nowhere for it to go. I had to painfully choke the sip down and then pour the rest of the glass into the sink in defeat. Yeah, I ate a lot.

Here's my "I'm thankful for:"

I'm thankful that I got the 1/4 inch splinter out of the center of my right heel today. It's been there for almost two months and I kept telling myself that if I was just tough it would eventually disintegrate and stop hurting. In the meantime, I've been walking funny to keep from putting weight on that foot and have messed up my hip joints to where I could hardly walk at all. The wonderful spirit of Thanksgiving visited me today and told me to just dig the darn thing out which I did and I was instantly able to walk again. And boy am I grateful!

4 comments:

kaff said...

That was probably a good pregnant lady waddle that you had, especially when you were gimping on one foot :) That why I love you!!

Suzie Petunia said...

Wow, what an eventful day. I don't know what was wrong with me... pie didn't sound good. That is freakin' weird for me. I'm happy for the removal of the splinter. I can't believe you walked around with it that long. Happy Thanksgiving!

Anonymous said...

Sniff, sniff. That splinter story was very touching! No, actually, it was a good reminder to be grateful for the simple things that make life lovely. I'm sure you were secretly going for a pimped out homeboy gait to go along with baggy pg pants.

Anonymous said...

I know exactly what you are talking about. One time I let an ingrown toe nail go for months. It got to the point that whenever someone would walk near my sore foot, I would automatically move it in to avoid having it stepped on. Finally, one day I went to the doctor and got it removed (which was such a simple thing to have done). However, my protective habit was formed, and for months, I found myself moving my foot if there was the slightest chance it could get stepped on.