……And Never Came Home
What do you get for the person who has everything? A gift card? Flowers? Fruit of the month membership?
How about for the person who has just casually lost a toe at home like it was no big deal (Yep..I said toe..no awkward auto correct here). A get well card? New socks?
I mean, at least for baby teeth, you just DM the Tooth Fairy, she drops a dollar or two under the pillow and you call it a day. —Side note, what are kids making these days for teeth? I imagine with inflation the whole exchange is worth more now than it was 25 years when I last cashed in on that ‘savings bond’.
Before you answer the real question at hand, I feel like I must explain my situation just a bit. If you are squeamish…move along..trust me..
It all started with an ant bite. Yep, you read that right, an ant bite. If you are a long time follower of my blog, you know that 1. I already hate ants (read here) and 2. I take care of my mom who is in ‘end stage renal failure’.
My mom, who is freezing even when its 90* outside (side effect of Dialysis), has turned my garage into a little living room complete with T.V. , fridge, recliner and microwave (sounds weird but I promise you, a lot of people do that around here..).
One day the ants went marching one by one (hooh rah..hooh rah..) and decided to make a picnic of my moms foot while she was napping post dialysis. These ants weren’t just black ants, by the way, these were Texas Fire Ants. Other wise known as ‘satan’s little gardeners’.
This situation all took place last summer. Since then, she has had two surgery’s. One to remove her big toe (buh bye..) and the second surgery to try to save the another one (spoiler alert..second surgery didn’t work)…Now we have a long-standing appointment every Wednesday to see her podiatrist/wound care specialist in an attempt to help her body fight off an infection where every one else would just rub some cream on it, grab some gasoline to light the ant mound on fire and then call it a day.
Now, to say I’m squeamish, is an understatement. With that in mind, my mom often excludes me from graphic discussions about what is going on underneath 30lbs of gauze and bandages on her foot. Until one day, I walked in on my mom and her home nurse re doing the dressing on her foot. It was then that I noticed that she was down half a toe. As you can imagine, I had some questions and a lot of statements. Mom and the nurse laughed as they realized I was pretty much clueless to what was going on. Apparently, they have been anxiously awaiting for the toe to drop off. Just wating…like you wait for pizza rolls to cook in the microwave. Ding..its done or gone. (Andddd I just ruined pizza rolls for myself…)
So, here we are one month, post-toe and I have yet to present my mom with an adequate gift to commemorate such a ‘special’ occasion…here are some of the leading ideas suggested by friends, family and the Dr. himself….