Japanese foot

My foot started swelling up again this week. It was Japan all over again…though in Japan it was my left foot. The pain on the outside of the right foot followed by agony in the lower leg quickly changed to the foot growing to twice its normal size. It was then time to stop wearing shoes on my right foot. And today was the climax.

Yesterday I managed to walk into town and back very slowly, leaning very heavily on my walking stick in order to keep going. There were a few times I wished for some magic command that would transport me back to the house but none became apparent. Besides, if there was such a command surely a better one would be for new feet.

So, this morning, after a night of very little sleep because it was punctuated with long bouts of pain, I was confined to the lounge. Mirinda had asked for Persian chicken for dinner but I couldn’t see me walking into town anytime soon. She asked me to give her a shopping list and she’d go.

This is always a risk. She doesn’t like shopping and has no idea what substitution really is. She doesn’t know Waitrose as well as I do or appreciate that there are optimum times to go shopping. Regardless, I attempted to write her a list.

I numbered the aisles so she could work her way seamlessly through the supermarket. The problem came with one set of shelves which face the cheese counter at the end of the dairy aisle. I couldn’t remember the name of the creme fraiche I prefer so I had to describe it and its location.

I said it was normally on the right of the middle shelf of the display. Mirinda asked if that was as you faced the cheese counter. I had no answer for that and decided I should go if she’d drive me. I aimed to drag myself around behind a trolley.

There was some scant opposition but it was finally agreed that it would be for the best if I went as well. So, at 10am we jumped into Max and set off. We were back by 10:30am, all the shopping completed with a minimum of fuss.

The rest of my day was spent with my foot doing little more than hanging limply off my leg. Mirinda had a more productive one by working on her DBA and Skyping Bob and Fi.

The lack of sleep from last night had started to tell so I went for a deep, two hour snooze in the afternoon, waking up refreshed to start dinner.

By the time we had it, it was delicious. Unlike my foot which was decidedly not.

Emma isn’t sure what it is
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1 Response to Japanese foot

  1. Josephine Cook says:

    Go back to the specllist you wont be walking at all soon love mum xxxx

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