Unlike Americans, or the country where I originate from, I do NOT succumb to hypochondria. Which means that whenever I do see my doctor (maybe once every four years) he takes my concerns very seriously indeed. Whilst I am grateful for Dr Jenner having eradicated chicken pox I am of the old school where,instead of throwing pills at them, fevers are sweated out and if they approach 41 degree Centigrade (ie death) you apply “Wadenwickel” – that’s cloths dipped in ice cold water, wrung out, then wrapped around your lower leg. It’s awful. Yet effective. It does draw out the fever.
The one feat in your life is when you have to apply a “Wadenwickel” TO yourself BY yourself. Take it from me. It’s not easy.
Anyway, talking about the body taking you to task: I know they say that there is little symmetry to the two halves of the body but this minute I am flummoxed: My right foot has swollen twice the size of my left, and to an extent I can only take as the onset of gangrene. And yes, I know I shouldn’t have read so many seafaring novels in my formative years – on board ship they’d just chop off your limb.
None of this would matter except my right foot now does not fit into any shoe – other than my son’s trainers. Which he thinks are rather stylish on me. I don’t. I am a (British) size 6/7; he is an 11 and no heels.
You, and particularly gaelikaa, might ask: “What’s your point?” There is no point. Facts are facts.
Jumping ship, yours,