I often remark that I can’t believe I am allowed to use an oven so frequently do I misuse it, I have however never caused myself much harm. In my last post I mentioned how I had misused my kettle, again however, it had never caused me much harm. Until a couple of weeks ago…
My usual routine of making various hot drinks and taking them upstairs to the family in bed was taking place on Thursday 8th May, also as usual I had an iPad under one arm, some biscuits in one hand, two cups of tea and some milk for my son in the other and my phone in my mouth as I climbed the stairs and entered my bedroom. I also may have had a very small drink that evening. But I never thought my little finger would betray me and give out under the strain and tip my brand new bedtime tea (no milk and straight from the boiling kettle) all over my foot.
I was wearing large thick woollen socks and the scalding tea suckered itself all across the thin skin of my foot. The pain was extraordinary, transcendental, otherworldly, I have never felt anything like it in my life (and my son weighed 11lbs and came out ‘down there’). Honestly I’m not a princess and like to think my pain threshold is quite high but this quite took my breath away. In fact I swore and screamed so much my son started to cry.
But despite thinking I was surely going to die from it practicality took over and into a sink of running cold water it went and that’s where I stayed for about half an hour sweating and shaking with my now throbbing foot up in a sink of water. Unsure of what else I could do we strapped some frozen peas to it and hoped for the best. Sleep however was elusive that night as I twisted and turned and cried out in pain until the small hours, of course the peas thawed and I was reduced to opening my window and trying to sleep with my foot propped up on the windowsill in the breeze for any type of relief, small though it was.
The healing process began the very next day and I have spent the past two weeks amazed by what has happened to my foot!
I was surprised to see that the morning after it didn’t look as bad as I imagined, it was red and tender and still very painful but didn’t look as dreadful as it felt. The blister had already started forming.
I visited two pharmacists and a nurse all of whom stressed the importance of ‘protecting the blister’ and watching for signs of infection, and I bought various dressings and creams in readiness for the big burst.
Luckily I had a pair of shoes that just swept around the main area so I could get outside and I have been living in them ever since.
And the blister grew, and grew, and grew….
Of course I overshared the growth of the blister on Twitter so I could illicit sympathy and gasps, but also got some top tips on taking care of it:
And it carried on growing, and growing and grew so large that I could feel the weight of the liquid within swing back and forth as I moved my foot about, quite disconcerting and disgusting.
Anyway, this carried on for over a week, those around me incredulous that such a large blister could remain intact for quite so long. I drove, I went to work, I walked the dog, I did everything as normal, just with what looked like a large, red jellyfish strapped to my foot. My son would say that he was ‘sorry for my scald’ but that it looked ‘gross’. It did.
didn’t burst, after all the pain and discomfort I was denied anything quite so spectacular or satisfying. I was even expecting the dog or my son to step on it and squash the thing – imagine the feeling? But no, I just felt a slight ooze 8 days after the accident and saw a tiny trickle leaking across my foot. And so I strapped it up to keep it clean and the next stage began of avoiding infection as my body had done all it could.
For days I religiously wiped, creamed, bandaged, trying to avoid the dog who was intent on giving me a healing lick whenever I took my dressings off and thankfully I have steered clear of any nasties. It did however continue to look nasty:
I thought I was on my way, stupidly though this past weekend while on the beach I got my bandage wet and took it off, worried that the sea water would irritate the site and thought some exposure to the outside air would help to dry it out. The breeze off the sea masked the fact the sun was happily burning the skin that was so thin you could see my veins clearly through it. Not sure why that
didn’t cross my mind but I certainly paid for the stupidity later when my already distressed foot went the colour of tomato soup and started throbbing again… oops!
Over two weeks on I think we are on our way to being able to wear socks and some different shoes – hooray.
Look – can you see the little smiley face? (thanks Nature!)
I’m not sure if I’ll be left with a scar, not sure I’ll be bothered if I do (especially if it looks like a little happy smiley face), I’ll just need to remember the sunblock. I will however remember to never be so cavalier while carrying lots of hot things.
What else have I learnt:
- The body is incredible, blisters are super healing tools, and quite funny
- Beware boiling water for it is really hot
- I don’t like thick, woollen socks
- I am an idiot
STILL – Thank goodness I had painted my toenails and shaved my feet before it had happened or those pictures would have been a hell of a lot worse.