So I thought I share a fun story that happened on Wednesday evening.I guess, at some point our son must have dropped one of the toothpicks we put in his meatballs for dinner. The toothpick ended up pointing directly up in the carpet in the living room waiting for my unsuspecting foot.
When I stepped on it I felt this searing paint right under the big tow joint. I looked down puzzled to find a broken toothpick. I quickly realized that about almost half the toothpick was missing, then realized that it was still in my foot. But the problems was that, other than what looked a broken bone pushing up the skin and a puncture wound, there was no sign of the toothpick. There was a brief moment where I thought it was kind of cool and the sudden realization that the toothpick was in my foot and that I wouldn't be the one getting it out. Then the anger hit that this again would cut into more of my training time.
So it meant a trip to the ER. Being a bit stubborn, I walked into the ER on the side of my foot. This is the same leg that I had suffered the calf strain, so I found myself realizing that the strain hadn't healed and that my calf also started hurting. The doc numbed my foot, and with a small incision, found the toothpick and pulled it out. And it only required two stitches to sow it up. I even got antibiotics and a tetanus shot for good measure.
Oh well....
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