That Really, Really Hurts :'o(

House with the offending step.
(Step between the porch and the indside)

What a horrible night.

My poor li'le foot - I've really damaged myself. I'd cut away the dead skin, sprayed it down with Savlon wound-wash, kept it cleanly bandaged with a little Savlon cream, and it just wasn't happy. Had to bathe the bandages off in saltwater, it was still so gunky. Ran out of iodine - almost brought the house down when I put that on it; the air turned blue with my exclamations.

But the wound still wouldn't dry. Was looking worse each day. I remember years ago getting a bad cut on the same foot (on the side, not the underside back then) and it got infected with this sort of skin-eating gunky stuff that just bit deeper and deeper. Eventually someone threw iodine over it - which is when I first learned of its magical properties - and I still, to this day, have a map-of-Australia-shaped scar across it.

I was surprised when the iodine didn't fix it this time. I thought it was just that I didn't have enough - though it hurt enough that it should have done more good than it did.

So, last night I again soaked the bandage off in a lukewarm bowl of saltwater. After a while, I dabbed dry, downed a couple of Anadin, and began the slow process of compacting the wound with salt.

Couldn't have done it without the painkillers. I wired my jaw shut with toffee (thanks Dad) and hummed distractedly to myself whilst watching Stardust (again, thanks Dad! Lovely film).

Every five minutes or so the puss from the wound would completely soak through the salt and turn it sort of yellow. I'd take the corner of the towel, brush off all the wet salt, and apply fresh salt. This went on for about three hours (moved onto Age of Innocence, which I've never particularly seen the point of, not a patch on Dangerous Liaisons - I would have drowned May and run off with Michelle Pfeiffer - but I do so like period dramas) and by the time I went to bed it was still weeping a little, so I compacted it with a last batch of salt and tried to sleep.

The painkillers wore off soon after I went to bed and gave me a nasty acidy tummy. I didn't want any more, but it hurt sooo much. I broke around 3am and literally hopped to the kitchen to guzzle some antacid milky stuff, a couple more Anadin, and shove a handful of Belgian waffle in my gob in the vain hope it would line my stomach just a little. Took ages for the pain to dull. I drifted off just before dawn.

Still, some things you just gotta do. If I'd left it I would be taking a wee trip to the clinic today. Perseverance (and painkillers) paid off - this morning there's a cherry red scar across the bottom of my foot, but it's absolutely dry and sealed. Throbbing a bit, but infection free. It will just be uncomfortable for a while. One of the worst places to do that to yourself though: the bottom of your foot, with all those nerve endings. No idea how people get tattooed there.

Feeling both sorry for myself (it was self-inflicted, I was drunk, the step attacked me!) and proud of myself for gritting my teeth and sorting it out. Wound care is a definite art, I'm sure: when to use cream, when to cover, when not, when to let dry, when you're in trouble, when it'll heal by itself...

I'm getting to be quite an expert lately.

Anyway, productive day ahead. Lots of stuff to do, information to share, things to print off, meetings to go to, yadda yadda. Time to stretch the ol' scar tissue and hobble about a bit :op

[NB 2013: I had no idea at the time how serious this injury was. As VSOs, you get a bit foolhardy. The step was made of concrete, which had been chipped, and it was that sharp edge I had misjudged and sliced my foot open on. In hot weather, and without immediate medical attention, infections can spread quickly and wounds take a lot longer to heal.]