Well if it’s not a dose of cancer or a wonky face, what else could it be?
My feet! They’ve never been beautiful things to look at, and after ending 2015 with a mountain ascent (albeit only a little English mountain) they’ve been a bit shredded.
Given my bone issues, actually reaching my feet to trim my nails is an act of contortion that I’m now less willing to take. Thus, part of my meagre benefits is now contributing to regular paid for podiatry care. I’m getting somebody else to cut my nails.
If you’re thinking of a new career and can tolerate the scabby feet of others, I suspect this is a nice little earner. I’m sure there are qualifications to get but clippers, plasters, scissors and savlon, along with various disinfectants, seems to be the tools of the trade.
Today’s visit required three toes to have special attention. Little left has a nasty blister. Wrapped up. Big left has a healing blister that was looked at, sprayed and then left to continue healing. Big right remains an issue. Although it’s 21 months since my mountain climb the damage, leading to nail growing over nail, under nail shredding and leaving fragments behind, there is still pain. Despite an impressive patch up job done a month ago. At least the anti-biotics got rid of the infection.
Mrs Podiatrist remains confident the toe will make a full recovery. Otherwise my visit to the Chilean Andes might not be as successful as I’d like.