During our week of weddings in June, I stubbed my right pinky toe and dislocated it. It was during an extended family dinner and the house was full. Over 12 years had passed since my last dislocated toe. I went to my dad and asked him to pull the toe HARD so that it would pop back into joint. Since the house was full, I sucked it up and held on tightly while my dad repeatedly pulled until suddenly the toe slipped back into place. The pain was instantly gone, I put on my running shoes and went on with the dinner. Only I few people even knew what had happened.
The next dislocation occasion happened in July. Mark, Faith, Ashley and the little boys were here visiting. Markus ran past me as 2 years olds do and somehow caught my little toe. Mark was great and after two pulls my toe was fine once again. This time I noticed that it was harder to control my pain and the fear of the pulling. The house was no longer full, and I was expressive with my pain.
Jump ahead to August's dislocation situation.
It was family dinner day. I was cleaning the house. Specifically I was taking ALL the quilting books off the above table. I step forward and my right pinky toe caught on one of the brass pulls. I could feel the "pop" as the pain shot through my being. This time only Tim was home, and I came completely unglued. The pain almost knocked me over, but it was the fear that caused the emotional melt down. To say that I was expressive is an understatement! I cried; I sobbed; I wailed uncontrollably. I KNEW what had to happen next and felt so incapable of dealing with the white hot pain that was part of the pulling.
Tim has never had to deal with my toe before, and he greatly struggled doing what was necessary knowing how much pain it was causing. This was by far the worse of the three this summer. The 5th pull was going to be Tim's final chance to get the toe back into place. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, and I was beginning to wonder if this time some serious damage had occurred. We were both so relieved when that toe slipped back into place.
I almost always wear shoes. I've never been a barefoot person, but I love my flip flops. Each time I've dislocated this toe I've had sandals or flip flops on. So once Tim fixed my toe, I collected all my precious flip flops and tossed them into a shopping bag and tied and KNOTTED the bag closed. I cannot go through another toe episode. I am keeping my dress sandals, but I'll tape my toe before wearing them.
So these are my new shoes of choice: Mary Jane Crocs. My toe should be safe with them. The black is so boring though.