Here's a quick list of things I don't like (otherwise known as "Reasons # 38, 94, and 205 why Phil is currently disgruntled):

  1. People telling me "I don't know" when I present them with a problem
  2. Not realizing until after the fact that there are I things I should be doing to advocate for myself better.
  3. Shots.

Last night, I decided to venture to Urgent Care because I spent the day walking on a foot that decided it would torture me mercilessly. All day long. Due to the fact that it was bleeding a bit, and that I'd had this same exact issue a month or so ago (in the same exact spot), I thought seeking treatment might be wise. That thought still stands.

Urgent Care closed at 9pm (which totally surprised me), so they sent me off to the emergency room, about a mile or so away. I waded through the usual icky paperwork, then waited in the usual icky and less-than comfortable chairs in the waiting room, to be called.

When the doctor saw me, I explained: "I think I may have stepped on glass at some point, perhaps even a month ago, and I can't put much pressure on my foot without suddenly crumpling to the floor, writhing in pain." (I'm paraphrasing here; the use of quotations is for dramatic purposes only.)

A quick test from Le Doctor ensued. It consisted of him probing my left foot by putting pressure all over the place. When I winced and my leg jerked away, he remained nonplussed. "I can't feel anything. Let's take some x-rays and then we'll see."

We take some x-rays. He sees nothing of consequence. "You'll need to stay off it for a while. Oh, and since you're cut, you'll need a tetanus shot, since you haven't had one in the last five years." My queries regarding perhaps cleaning the cut were dismissed, and my further inquiries as to why exactly this cut remains, even more than a month to two months later, an issue, were answered with an "I don't know." Followed by a "What do you think?" Because, you know, I'm the one the doctor approached for help. Nice.

So where has that left me? Let's see here: 1.) A sore left arm from the damn tetanus shot. 2.) an ace bandage to cover my mystery of an ailment on my foot. 3.) Crutches to get around on for the next 'short while', a prop added to the agenda after I insisted that, no, I couldn't take time off work and school; yes, I am extremely mobile so we still have a problem; what do you mean don't put any weight on my foot, but at the same time you're not offering me any solutions for my mobility issues.

Long story short: my foot still hurts. Even with the ace bandage (though ace really, really helps). And here's me, a six-foot tall big guy who is notoriously awkward and klutzy under the best of circumstances, trying to get around on crutches with at least some semblance of efficiency.

I'm supposed to have a follow-up appointment soon. I think I'll be using that time to find a doctor who comes recommended from someone.

Oh, I almost forgot to add: on my way out to the car to drive myself for said notorious treatment, I walked into a spider web. It was dark out, and some spider was obviously trying to use the low-hanging limbs of the tree to his advantage, to catch any flying insects. He just wasn't counting on a six-foot tall unsuspecting primate being the one he happened to catch. I bet he also wasn't expecting me to start flailing my arms wildly around trying to get the shit out of my face, either. I DID manage to snag my glasses just so and cause them to go flying from my face to the ground, however. So since one lens of my glasses is now graced with two generous concrete scratches, I think the spider still wins.