How many more hours of my life will I spend waiting for
someone to confirm that no, I don’t have a disease that is about to cause
imminent death slash imminent foot amputation?
Yesterday, I told my friends that a very important reason why I need a boyfriend is so that he can reassure me of such things. For example, my ankle just below the talus bone has been bothering me. Sometimes the pain spreads ever so slightly up my calf. There is about 0.87 millimetres of swelling. Likely this vague pain is due to the sudden increase of walking on sidewalks and the sudden decrease in Ashtanga yoga and daily downward dogs. Obviously, I have jumped to the worst case scenario. Blood poisoning. The infection has entered my blisters that I got from my Birkenstocks. (Most of these blisters have callused over.) In Montreal, it is 26 degrees. Everyone is hot. Not me. I have a fever. From the blood poisoning.
At the table where I sat and told my friends about how I needed a boyfriend to tell me that my foot wasn’t going to be amputated, a darling ten-year-old girl listened intently.
“Could a girlfriend help instead?” she asked.
“Well,” I said, not letting a teachable moment go to waste. “Girlfriends definitely work for some people. But for me personally, I have found boyfriends to be a better fit.”
Once someone told me that ten-year-olds are among the most loveable people in the world. I used to say that I peaked around ten years old, but this is probably unnecessarily pessimistic. The same kind of pessimistic as thinking that you and your foot are both dying of blood poisoning. Once my vagina stops bleeding, and imminent death is ruled out, I think I will start up again with the Downward Dogs.
Please be my boyfriend for five minutes.
Thanks.
Love, Erica.
The End.
I was going to take a photo of my blood poisoned ankle, but I feel as though you can probably be my boyfriend without it. The Boatman used to be quite good at taking blog photos. He was very wonderful for many things, far beyond photography and vetoing blood poisoning. In fact, I am missing him immensely.
Yesterday, I told my friends that a very important reason why I need a boyfriend is so that he can reassure me of such things. For example, my ankle just below the talus bone has been bothering me. Sometimes the pain spreads ever so slightly up my calf. There is about 0.87 millimetres of swelling. Likely this vague pain is due to the sudden increase of walking on sidewalks and the sudden decrease in Ashtanga yoga and daily downward dogs. Obviously, I have jumped to the worst case scenario. Blood poisoning. The infection has entered my blisters that I got from my Birkenstocks. (Most of these blisters have callused over.) In Montreal, it is 26 degrees. Everyone is hot. Not me. I have a fever. From the blood poisoning.
At the table where I sat and told my friends about how I needed a boyfriend to tell me that my foot wasn’t going to be amputated, a darling ten-year-old girl listened intently.
“Could a girlfriend help instead?” she asked.
“Well,” I said, not letting a teachable moment go to waste. “Girlfriends definitely work for some people. But for me personally, I have found boyfriends to be a better fit.”
Once someone told me that ten-year-olds are among the most loveable people in the world. I used to say that I peaked around ten years old, but this is probably unnecessarily pessimistic. The same kind of pessimistic as thinking that you and your foot are both dying of blood poisoning. Once my vagina stops bleeding, and imminent death is ruled out, I think I will start up again with the Downward Dogs.
IN THE INTERIM,
Dear Internet,Please be my boyfriend for five minutes.
Thanks.
Love, Erica.
The End.
I was going to take a photo of my blood poisoned ankle, but I feel as though you can probably be my boyfriend without it. The Boatman used to be quite good at taking blog photos. He was very wonderful for many things, far beyond photography and vetoing blood poisoning. In fact, I am missing him immensely.
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| Internet diagnosing on the I-Phone Photo Courtesy of Tiago D'Oliviera Photography and Film Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook Twitter: @mypelvicfloor I Let Go for $2.99 Yours til Ekam Inhales (Letters from my ten-year-old self) The Day Yoga Almost Gave Me a Stroke Life and Death are of Supreme Importance |
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