My Left Foot

I didn't run this morning. I got up to run, but my left big toe was hurting. I dropped a couch on it when I was moving stuff around in the Manor this weekend. I'm pretty sure it's broken, but I'm also quite sure I'm not going to seek any treatment for it. Through years of football, I've broken a number of digits, of both the metacarpal and metatarsal variety. Dad and my coaches were of one voice in the matter: "Tape it up and it'll be fine. Nothing they can do about it anyway".

A few weeks ago, Twin Tyler was complaining about his big toe. He'd come back from his momma's house with the instructions that I take him to the emergency room (I'm pretty sure they have an emergency room in Beaufort's hospital, but whatever). His teacher had also suggested that I take him for medical care. I did. We waited for an hour or so at Colleton Regional. "What happened, child?", the ER doc asked. "I think I broke my toe at recess last week". "Let's get an X-ray", said the doc. X-ray, they did. "See here?", says the doc. "Right here", as he pointed to the film. "Yep. It's fractured all right". I didn't doubt it. "So, what do we do about it?", I inquired. "Oh, just tape it up. There's really not much we can do about it".

Oh, and here's your bill.