The podiatrist finally walks into the room and says, “…These things re-occur.” My eyes flit to the open window, “Would I fit through there….?”
“Now I am just going to numb your foot a bit….Oooooo! That’s cold! I got my thumb!”
God help me. Now, I can only go back and forth between thoughts of escape and memories of Tim Conway’s portrayal of a dentist who injects himself with Novocain before a tooth extraction.
“Inhale through your mouth, exhale through your mouth – just like you were in labor!” he coaches.
“Is this going to take thirty hours, too? Because if so, I would like the epidural….”
“Ha! You’re funny! Yep, that’s right! Now, it will buuurnnn a bit. Yep! That’s right! Right on schedule!” as my skin cringes away from the injection and rolls into my inhale. “I hear it really burns before becoming numb. I’ll leave it to take hold and then I’ll come right back for that nail!”
My stomach is churning. At least there was a baby at the end of labor; this recurring ingrown toe nail is just annoying the heck out of me. I start texting to share my pain.
“There’s an open window – should I jump?” I write to my brother-in-law.
“Head-first,” he suggests, “Your foot’s numb, you wouldn’t want to hurt it.”
A breeze moves the blinds in the open window. Five minutes pass. I pick up a magazine and read about Brittney Spears’ new-found happiness. Ten minutes. I read about an elite boarding school in Gstaad, I wonder how long it would take me to get there with a numbed-up, swelled-up foot….and the count is twenty minutes.
“I should just slip out the window….” rolls through my mind for the one hundred and first time but then the podiatrist rolls in, snapping latex gloves on his hands.
“Let’s DO this!”
“Yeah!” I respond, raising the Town and Country to cover the view of my feet.
To the podiatrist’s credit, the section of nail was out in less than thirty seconds. I wish the waiting time had been so short.
By the time I had Town and Country on my lap; my toe was bound in gauze and covered with a bright green bandage.
“Well, I’ll see you back here in six weeks then….”
“Right,” I said and thought, “if you can catch me.”