Warts and all

Just say, 'Thank you' to the sock.

Well if you are a regular to this little page you will know that I have been having treatment for an irritating little virus burrowing into my foot, cos I wrote about it and it is possible that it was that post that Neil Scales the Director General of the Queensland Department of Transport and Main Roads wasn't much fond of cos he used something on the blog as a excuse to cancel my meeting this week. "Your appointment has been cancelled because Mr Scales didn't like something he read on your blog"

Well I'll be fucked. Who'd have thunk it? An older fella, slurping lavishly from the public trough has time to trawl the internet and just stumbled across my little page...Oh I know...he's probably some paranoid fella who has a minion or 10 to do the trawling, but I suppose once hooked on their line, he might have had a wee peek at it himself. In any case it all just boosts my readership so I say 'Welcome TMR, and if you fancy leaving a comment go your hardest.'

But I digress.

When Dr Jane was burning and scraping she did notice the general state of my feet. She might have said something like, 'disgusting', and then cos she's efficient and all, she made an appointment with the podiatrist at the clinic.

I have never been to a Podiatrist.

Sure I have have had plenty of pedicures...no not into mani/pedis cos I like to do my own fingernails, but toes and corns and heel rot, well someone else is welcome to have a go at that.

I got a fungus in one of my big toenails once and because it spread to the other one when it was almost gone - tenacious little mushroom huh? it has been more than 2 years - yep 2 YEARS since I have painted my toenails, and in that time I have been trimming my own nails and using a blade to scrape off unwanted hard bits. But in truth I am not very thorough in the cutting or the scraping and my feet have gone down hill whilst I have been doing 'em.

So as I headed off yesterday morning, I said to Stevie that I was expecting to come home with pretty feet and that it would be a pleasant scent filled place with low lighting like a spa. Yeh NO.

He was chipper enough until I coped to the idea that I was expecting him to blade off dead skin and trim my nails. 'If you want a pedicure go the Chinese'. I think I might have offended him, so I settled back and let him do his investigations of pulse rates and flexibility - all good thanks for asking, and then he trimmed my nails - not as well as I do myself and then because he finally cracked onto the fact that I can't use chemical stuff cos of the meds and skin reaction mess, well then he had to have a go with a blade. He scraped away some dead stuff and even though he kept me waiting 15 minutes he needed to make up some time and didn't think it was right to keep someone else waiting while he scraped shit off my feet - maybe he had a point, he made another appointment to finish off and shoved me out the door, but not before he presented me with the tray filled with dead skin shavings. Pedicurists don't show you that shit! They just subtly sweep it out of the way and sooth you with a bit of a foot massage, ahhh. So I believed him when he said 'Podiatrists and not pedicurists'

And because my health insurance saw me walk out without his hand in my purse, I'll go back and let him finish up.

Stevie roared laughing at my disappointment.

Who has been to a Podiatrist?
What's the difference between a Podiatrist and a Chiropodist?
What could a greenie do with all that scraped dead skin?