I'm hobbling around on crutches. My foot does not even remotely resemble a human foot. The closest I can come to describing the disfigurement and discoloration, which I have been assured is temporary, is that my foot looks almost exactly like the rear foot of the American Spotted Hog my cousin raised for a Future Farmers of America project a couple of years ago. To me it's ironic that I went through several surgeries to make my leg appear normal after my injuries two years ago, then to have the other foot rendered almost equally hideously unsightly in a freak accident. Still, we're just talking extreme bruising here. Nothing's broken It hurts like hell if I bump it or put any weight on it, so I make it a point not to do much of either of those two things. The pain is at its worst at night, when it has to rest against or on something. Thank God for Vicodin.
It's my first Spring Break as a college student, and I'm spending it in high style on my parents' sofa, or hobbling around on my lovely pink crutches. Seriously, they are lovely. If I have to use crutches, they may as well be pretty crutches. Tomorrow I'm going to my PseudoAunt's and PseudoUncle's house to spend a couple of days. It's unlikely I'll do anything all that exciting there, but a change of scenery will be nice.
Ik ben op zoek naar John.