I remember a time when this was so easy, you know, your partner moans at you because your toe nails have scratched them during the night while you slept, so you rummage around in the bedside draw for the nail clippers, 20 seconds later, problem solved. These days I find myself dreading the job of cutting toe nails. I tend to leave them until they rub on the inside of my shoes through my socks, and by the end of the day the tops of my toes feel like they are bruised, I cant walk properly and there are holes appearing on the seam of my socks. I know I could get help, you know, ask someone to cut them for me, but I have a lot of hate when it comes to feet! Hate people touching my feet, hate the feel of toe nails ,before and after they have been cut and HATE HATE HATE the fact that I cant see my toes and cut my nails by feel and dam good luck. You hear of these couple who suck each others toes, what the hell is wrong with people!! That only sounds like some sort of torture to me.
I only once sliced the top of my big toe and that was when I was using some special toe nail clippers provided by the RNIB, they were a chunky apparatus with a light on the end, and they were 'safe' to use, but you know me, useless as usual, and managed to prove safety wrong and spent well over a week catching my sock on the sliced big toe and making it bleed. Toe nail clippers got thrown in the bin and I fished out a pair of old baby scissors that I used to use for cutting the toe nails of my girls when they were babies. They don't make a sharp cut but I don't care, there is no bloody way I am slicing any more off of my toes. I do find it easier to find the toes on the ends of my feet when the nails are painted, but I cant paint them and I think the girls get fed up with my squeals of displeasure when anyone goes near my feet, so they don't offer to paint them for me very often. I sometimes wonder how I would know if there was something nasty going on all the way down there at the end of my legs. I remember Gran saying to me many years ago....'Always look after your eyes and your feet, in your case Lyn, just look after your feet'..her words are always in the back of my mind, not because she thought my sight was crap but because I think I should probably try to be a bit braver and 'look after my feet' actually, now I think about it, its probably her fault I hate feet so much, she had the most awful feet I have ever seen, and as she is no longer here to defend herself, she gets the blame...sorry Gran.
Anyway, toe nails have been hacked down for a few weeks, this is in anticipation of a busy week ahead, and a lot of walking. Doctors tomorrow morning, to talk about going back to work and hopefully signing a slip of paper to say she is happy for me to go back. Swimming in the afternoon, did I tell you, we did 14 lengths last week?! Moorfields Thursday morning to check the floater (which is still there), check all is stable and to talk about operating on the floater and Friday to meet with my boss and talk about getting my backside back to some kind of normality.
If I am honest with myself, I know there has been some deterioration in my 'good' eye. Mum and I took some of her grandchildren out to tea on Saturday night at out local Indian restaurant. I used to be able to make out some of the writing on the menu, but I couldn't read a single word this time, and sort of did the 'act' thing and causally got the kids to recommend a nice dish. When the food came, I argued with Mum about what sat in my bowl on the hot plate in front of me, I said it was chicken in a sauce and she was saying....Noooo Lyn, its veg and potato. She was right and my chicken came in a different dish with my rice, I had no idea!! But it all tasted lovely so it wasn't a problem really. All was going swimmingly, until the end when I stood up to leave with everyone else and realised I had somehow (and I really don't know how) managed to get the arm of my coat zipped into my hand bag. The zip wouldn't budge and I had to wriggle into my coat while the handbag hung off my arm like some sort of handbag growth, get Mum to do my coat up for me, all the while the kids are pissing themselves laughing at me and the restaurant staff are just standing there with their mouths open wondering what the hell the fuss was all about. We walked all the way back to Mums house with me clutching the dam bag in an abnormal position and looking like a right prat. However, by the time I had wriggled out of the coat and handbag, left it on Mums kitchen floor, raced up stairs to the loo for a wee and readjusted myself, Mum had yanked the coat and handbag apart, order once again restored!
Today I pushed myself around a busy Asda, and I am definitely stronger willed than I was, the confidence that I lost in September is returning, I seem to be able to maintain composure and concentrate on looking for the things I need, although I wasn't on my own, I still felt very level headed. So, fingers crossed for a good day at the hospital on Thursdays, I am nearly 100% sure they will say that my eyes have stabilised and I should be good to get back to it again, well, obviously I will be taking it easier and being more respectful of what I have. What's that saying....'once bitten, twice shy'...or in my case, 'tenth time bitten, learnt my bloody lesson at last'.
Will let you know how it all goes, Speak soon x
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