There's a hole in my foot

Who knew free-lance journalism could be dangerous? All I was doing was touring a new bedroom addtion for a story on home renovations when I stepped on a long sheetrock nail that went all the way through my thick wedge heels and punctured the ball of my foot. Are you cringing?

Don't worry that's normal because the woman who owns the house is a nurse and she looked ill with the idea of a nail all up in my foot. When I keeled over into a newly mudded wall holding my foot all I could manage to mutter was "Nail! In! My! Foot!" She kind of just stood there for a couple of seconds trying to process what I said while I was trying to figure out how to pry my shoe from my foot without a claw hammer. I had sheetrock mud all over one hand and I was still clutching my pen and paper in the other.

Finally, I handed her the paper and prepared to feel the nail slide its way out of my delicate foot that was desperately in need of a pedicure! It didn't make me feel too comforted that she was pretty grossed out by the situation.

But she took care of me by making several phone calls to various doctors around town because my doctor's nurse suggested I go to the emergency room for a tetanus shot. That was the most painful part of the day. The thought of sitting for hours in an e.r. and then getting a crazy bill for it was more than I could bear. I was prepared to suffer Lock Jaw if I had to go. Fortunately, my doctor got back to the office and I quickly got a shot and went back to work.

I'm clearly awesome and a dedicated pro and now I must put my foot up and hope dinner makes itself because the pain is setting in and I most definitely cannot do housework for at least a year!