Sunday, September 25, 2011

Broken Dreams, Wait - No. Broken Toes.

Hey kids - once again I've gone MIA for a month. Because that's how I roll. When last we left off, I was headed to my bachelorette party. That bitch Irene didn't ruin a damn thing (except for my poor MOH's perfectly planned itinerary - Love you MOH!). That being said, as most of you readers know (and by most, I mean all because there are approximately four of you at this point) I broke two toes on my right foot on the FIRST night of my bachelorette party - once again, because that's how I roll.

This was taken at the Urgent Care Center the morning after "The Injury". Please note that while this foot is very puffy and odd looking, this picture cannot hold a candle to the spectacular black, blue and purple bruising that covered my entire foot up to the ankle starting Sunday morning and lasting at least 2 weeks. It also does not accurately portray the way that my fourth toe now looks - simultaneously still swollen but also oddly floppy and detached from the rest of my foot. (You're welcome for the description, btdubs).

When we went to Urgent Care, I was told that surely my toes would heal in a max of 4 - 6 weeks ... well, kids, we are four weeks out from the injury and there are now fewer than three weeks til my nuptials. As you would expect, given my luck, my bones are not healing. At all. Literally. I am particularly given to bouts of hyperbole and exaggeration but this is not one of those bouts. Upon reviewing my most recent x-rays the doctor said "Wow! These aren't healing at all!" He sounded super upbeat about it which momentarily made me think I'd heard "Wow! These are healed!" But since I'd been looking at my sad, weirdly floppy, still misshapen and slightly puffy toes for the past month I knew that his inflection was just very odd and that in fact I had the bones of a sad, dying elderly woman.

It's time to face the music kids. I've got an appointment with an orthopedist (/orthopedic surgeon - eeeek!) on Wednesday and I am putting off mailing my beautiful beautiful Badgley Mischkas until then. But I don't expect good news. I know that I can manage flats since I attended a wedding this past weekend and wore flats to that event ... but the heels ... well, I'm hoping I can take half a vicodin and a couple mimosas and fight through the pictures and swap them out for something more toe friendly. That being said, I have had to make some choices. I have a few flat, expensive (what?! I'm selling the damn dress. I want to keep the shoes. Plus what other life event will allow me to buy designer shoes?) Check these out:
Badgley Mischkas, obvi, elegant but I think maybe sort of "old"? Plus the toe looks a bit pointier than my poor sad broken phalanges can manage. But I like them. They're cuter in person, though.

At this point, these are my lead choice. The lace/organza would look adorable with my dress and they look super comfy. haven't seen these in person ... but I think if I have to send back my beautiful heels, that these are the front runner for runner up shoe choice.

And, I suppose the bigger issue and the issue about which I am more stressed (check out that grammar, Mom and Dad!): is the final dress fitting. The "Final Dress Fitting" isn't so much a fitting as a "This better fucking fit because this is the only time I can pick it up and I have my portraits in one week and then the damn wedding five days after that, so I'm taking this shit home no matter what" sort of situation. I have lost weight since my last fitting - too much weight - which I am gaining back by eating crap that is bad for me and by drinking beer, but more than anything I'm afraid she's going to want to hem the dress again. HEM THE DAMN DRESS, GUYS! First of all, alterations were already ungodly expensive. The idea that she may demand that the dress be hemmed to fit with flats is enough to make me shove my poor misshapen broken floppy toes into those too tight heels any day of the week. Wish I were kidding. I'm not. I may have tried it twice over the past three days - what?! I can't make them worse.

I'll post after my orthopedist appointment - And now a shout out to my Mother and her awesome PPO insurance: Yay for Momma having reached her out of pocket deductible and therefore making my foray into orthopedic (possible) surgery not only possible, but free! Thanks for having good insurance, H.E.W!

PS. If you've read this far, here's a bonus picture. This is me "Dougie-ing" (look it up, Mom and Dad. Start with Youtube). With a black man, whom you can't see. With one 4 inch heel and one orthopedic shoe. The lovely girl behind me is my friend Em. That reaction is EXACTLY the appropriate reaction to the ridiculousness of what was happening. This picture is also a really good reason why I will NOT mix vicodin and day drinking with my wedding reception. Because this happens ... whatever "this" is:


  1. this is the only thing that could make me laugh at 8 am on Monday morning. i loveee you and your floppy toessss

  2. Love the tiara. And the pageant sash. Classy.