Trauma
Nested five-gallon buckets separate—mid-air—serially bashing my second toe.
Howls.
Language.
Mega blood blister.
Later, urgent Labrador claws, jigging at our front door,
meet my hapless, arthritic toe and,
accidentally, gouge open the blister.
Colors yet-to-be-named fresco my foot.
Weight bearing? Impossible.
26 foot bones, not one broken.
And now Toe #2 is 1/4 inch longer than before.
Solidarity
Nurse Tina, armed with gauze and surgical tape, groans aloud—more than once—and I love her for it.
She artfully buddy straps toes 2 and 3.
My newly-bound twosome throbs.
I hobble.
I google.
Comparisons
Pop Quiz: How does my foot resemble
- Venus de Milo?
- da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man?
- The Statue of Liberty?
Turns out I have Greek Feet, my second toes longer than my big toes. Greek Feet are the idealized foot shape found in ancient statuary, continuing up to our present-day Lady of Liberty. (Longer big toes? You have Egyptian Feet. Read more here.)
Reflexologists, or Foot Readers, claim overlong second toes indicate leadership qualities: resourcefulness, creativity, intelligence, confidence, enthusiasm, impulsiveness, and vulnerability to stress.
Snopes fodder? You decide.
“The second toe on your right foot shows what you want in life,” Foot Reader Jane Sheehan says. “If you are getting [what you want], the toe will be touching the floor.”
Flattened Toe #2 has never hugged more carpet. Am I getting what I want?
The Kicker
My sturdy middle toe has limits.
This reminds me of relationships. We bind ourselves to a loved one who’s hurting. We try to provide balance. Stability. We compensate, try to share the weight.
When do we loose the bonds, urge the injured part (or party) to step up again and fulfill its role?
Isn’t this what we ask ourselves?
Will Toe #2 return to its original shape? Will my shoes still fit? God knows.
Beyond Buddy Strapping
Meanwhile, I’m reading up on Venus de Milo:
Artistic feet.
Misplaced arms.
She is what she is. And known for it.
How do we play a supporting role—without playing God?
Reflexologist Jane Sheehan will give a reading if you send her a photo of your feet. Visit www.footreading.com
Yep, GEEK toes! 🙂 That’s what I read too as I tip-toed through your meditation. I ached just reading about this, and it triggered the memory of a broken baby toe, just when I was headed for Denver. I will never wear sandals grocery-shopping again. Shopping carts on toes are a disaster. When your are feet are happy, you are, and I was not a happy traveler! And then I recall the bunionectomy-from-hell in 2000, when I literally thought I would never walk (even tiny distances) sans excruciating pain again. The cure was far worse than the original condition. But it made me lean on the only One I could for support–Jesus. And it made me realize that HIS pain, in His excruciating death–His feet nailed to a horrid Cross–was more than any pain I could possibly imagine. I ended up being grateful for this experience (and for His ultimate healing… and ULTIMATE healing when we will leap on hinds’ feet through heavenly landscapes). You learned the term Greek toe, and I, the term, great toe. It’s not a big toe, but the great toe which had the bunion. Who knew? And who knew that toes are so crucial for walking and balance–I mean, a full collection of five per foot. Each one counts. And as we support each other, and band our “beautiful feet” together to share the Good News of Him whose feet were pierced for us, He requires each of us to be Good-News bearers and stretcher-bearers for those whose feet are sometimes limp or wounded or bucket-bashed. I thank you so much Miss Laurie Klein with the classy Greek toes for being a support buddy and scribe beautiful for all of us who occasionally need to take a load off our feet and one off our spirits as well. I find refreshment (and much creativity) in this place.
Love
Lynn
PS I have never thought feet were pretty, but boy, when they hurt, you don’t care what they look like (and again, I want the beautiful feet Scripture encourages). And when I think of toes, I’m also reminded that “little piggies” lead to great, big “gigglies” of little ones. I squealed with delight when Mother counted mine . . . all the waaaaay home!!
Shopping carts, breaks, and bunion-ectomies—oh my! Cringing as I read about your experiences. Intrepid you on weekend walkabouts with your man.
RSD sidelined me for two years some years ago, and I dug out all the encouraging verses in the Good Book about feet. And yes, thought of the nail-pierced feet also in my fight to walk normally again. And that all started from a broken toe.
Beautiful feet . . . how lovely on the mountains . . . Even when we’re hobbling, there’s good news -a-plenty to pass around. Thanks for tip-toeing through my story and responding with such warmth and humor and understanding. And for sharing the post on FB.
ps While writing this post I learned hallux is another word for the great toe. Seemed too esoteric to mention, but now, thanks to you, I feel free to toss it out there. 🙂
Love you!
Actually those hikes w/ Mike are good for my soles and our souls! Such a fun time of bonding our beautiful feet. He’s got Greek toes like you, but who knew? I’ll let him know, though he was toe pride already, and thinks *mine* are abnormal with the great toe longer than the index (?) toe! Actually, I just remembered that he can pick up things off the floor w/ his toes. Toes come in many lengths and abilities. I’ll leave mine to walking… and praise God, sans pain now. The doc put me in a torturous device called the DynaSplint for months, but it was God’s instrument for healing. Nearly every time I walk now, I thank Him for the gift of walking sans pain. I had to look up RSD (and would have, hallux, if you’d not explained it. Never shy away from using great words for any reason: There. You’ve my permission). Oh my. RSD! Sounds awful. I surely pray you are over this. I think so, from your wording! Yes, Bible verses for every need . . . not to be imbibed like magic potion, but real medicine for body and soul. Hey, just asked Mike:
“Did you know you have Greek toes?”
“Sure.”
“What are they?
He explains to a tee, or a toe as the case may be.
Says I, “How did you know that?!”
“Lynni, everybody knows what Greek toes are!”
Ahem. So there. Well, thanks to you, dear Laurie, I do now!
xoxo
Lynn
And that wisdom was not shared on a hike w/ Mike, but his exit to the garage to run an errand. His wisdom is legendary and usually rendered on the run.
Yikes, Lynn, The Dreaded DynaSplint sounds downright medieval. So glod you’re on sure footing again.
I too have taken my feet for granted far less often since my past struggle. And now I have a fresh chance to renew my attitude!
“Wisdom on the Run” . . . sounds like a book title 🙂
It was a bit medieval but Im grateful for it… only thing that worked. One specialist recommended new surgery, shortening a toe (and not Greek style, I assure)… all that surgical pain on top of pain. No thanks. Dyna was a godsend, but my scar tissue had dev’d do tenaciously that it took aeons to break it up. I was to start w/ an hour a day, and could barely stand 10m. Ultimately I had to keep the metal, springloaded contraption in place for hours.
Love the title. So write the book. ANY book. You’re wonderful, and I”m awaiting the next. so there!
xoxo
L
Lynn, that sounds incredibly painful. The contraption (springloaded!) sounds cumbersome and heavy. I wore the tall Franken-boot quite a while, far easier, did time on crutches and in wheelchair, wore a TENS unit, and size 10 shoes until I could bear anything touching my foot again. Wow, the grace of God and the things we survive!
Are you working on a book at present? I know you were mulling . . .
Yep, wore my Frankenboot too, and one couldn’t walk whatever in a Dynasplint…very heavy and would have killed my toe. I had to lie prone and elevate the thing over my heart. Back hurt too for a long time as a result. But oh my…as in life, sometimes when things hurt most, they are doing the most good.
Tx for asking . . . yes, mulling, praying, but feeling discouraged by my status at this point in my writing career and seeing the impossibility of it all. We should talk!
xoxo
lynn
Lynn, I just googled an image for the DynaSplint, and Yikes. I am cringing in commiseration. So glad the device ultimately set you upright again.
And oh the outrageous slings and arrows in even considering publishing a book . . . I am sending up a prayer for you right now. This I believe: If it’s his will, there’s a way.
Your closing question does indeed require careful thought. There may not even be a one-size-fits-all answer, except for prayer, moment-by-moment reliance on God, patience, self-restraint not to do too much, and the wisdom to know what that is. Supporting others in a healthy, restorative way is NOT easy! P.S. Adding my prayer to that of others that you heal quickly, my friend.
Nancy, it’s liberating to read your words this morning—that there’s really no template for this, only the consistent attuning of spirit with Spirit which, in turn, empowers patience, self-restraint, and wisdom, those slow-growing fruits of the committed life. You never cease to encourage me, friend. Thank you. And thanks for the prayers for my gimpy toe. 🙂
1) Ouch!!!
2) your last question slowed me down a bit…. “how do we play a supporting role without playing God?”
Soooo hard.
3) Stay clear of those buckets! And quick healing to you, my friend.
Jody, thanks for feeling it with me, and for taking some time with the question. I’m grateful.
And yes, I’m sidestepping those buckets with care these days. Another trip to recycle at the transfer station this weekend, and I will be on my guard. I’d much prefer having my feet shod with the gospel of peace. 🙂
Venus de Milo is giving me food for thought today. Broken yet beautiful and even inspirational! She still had a toe that could shoulder the next. We have so much left to offer in our brokenness!
Oh Deanna, you see it and say it perfectly. I hope everyone reads your comment! Feels like God just buddy strapped you to my soul, and I’m leaning a little on your insight. Armed with an attitude like yours, we’d all weather challenges with a better grace. Thanks so much for chiming in, friend.
I read your comment, Deanna, and agree with Laurie: with your attitude, “we’d all weather challenges with a better grace.” Praise God that he even uses our brokenness!
Well, this is sumpin new and interesting! And I have a confession–2, really. First, with quick overview, I thought you said Geek Toes. Yeah, no surprise there, either the perception or the reality. Tee hee. Second, so here’s another way we match up! From frowzy heads to bumpy toes? Let’s have a toe party one of these days! Not until you’re walking better! And oh yes, I send get-well wishes to your achy digit!
Loved it, girl!
Geek Toes? Ha! If the shoe fits . . . I’ll have to wait to find out since I can’t get into any of mine at present.
And yes. Forget the la-di-da tea party; bring on the toe party.
Thanks for your good humor and good wishes, Judith! I’m grinning 🙂