Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Blog-a-Day May: Day Seven - Exscrecences

ex·cres·cence

  [ik-skres-uhns]

1.
an abnormal outgrowth, usually harmless, on an animal or vegetable body.
2.
a normal outgrowth, as hair or horns.
3.
any disfiguring addition.
4.
abnormal growth or increase.  (Thanks www.dictionary.com)

This is my word of the week. It rolls out of your mouth like a wad of phlegm. It feels like a pent up sneeze when you finally get it out.

Today I had to tackle an excrescence of my own.

Today, I bit the bullet and went to the podiatrist.

What would possess a person to become a podiatrist? As a reflexologist, I've tackled all sorts of feet. I rub feet, after they have been washed of course. But that's it.

Podiatrists do all sorts of things. They cut, trim, prod, poke build up, scrape down and files all sort of things on feet. Like eww. People think I'm mad for rubbing feet. I think this you have to be even more mad to be a podiatrist.

Eww.

My reason for the visit to this strange person who does even stranger things with feet - a lump on my toe that I presumed to be a corn. It's been there for ages - ages being over two years. It doesn't hurt. I've been filing it down for years. I checked it on the internet, that wondrous suppostitory, whoops, repository of knowledge. For two years I've battled this thing that sometimes took on a life of its own. For two years, it's won.

Time to let the podiatrist deal with it.

So I turned up at a local doctor's surgery, was greeted by this very chirpy young woman who took me to her rooms. I told her what was going on, took my shoes of and she had a look.

"Ah, that's not a corn." she told me.
"Really?"
"No wonder you've had trouble with it. That's a wart. Warts have their own blood supply. This one's a nasty one."

Argh. Warts. Eww.

"I had them as a kid. They're awful."
"Yep."
"And how did you get rid of them when you were a kid?" she asked as she took to my toenails with what looked like a bolt cutter.
"Milkweed." I told her.
"Milkweed?"
"Yeah, my uncle was a doctor. He liked more traditional remedies for household ailments. We had milkweed growing in the back yard. Did the trick."

I didn't tell her about the other things we tried, including rubbing them with a piece of meat then burying it in the garden. As I don't have a garden now, no milkweed and no ground in which to bury meat.

"Wow. Well, we use other stuff that freezes them off. Takes time, but it does work."

She took to the obnoxious excrescence with what looked like a box cutter, whittling away the dead skin. "See, it's bleeding - that's a good thing."

Oh.

On the good side of things, this didn't hurt. Stung a bit, but it didn't hurt.

After making a few ouch noises, she finally put her knife down.

"You think that hurts, wait til what I do next."

I freaked and grabbed my foot back. Coming down with a cold, wasn't in the mood for any pain. ANY PAIN.

"It doesn't hurt that much." she tried to calm me.
"I don't like my feet being touched at the best of times.Years of physio and operations as a kid."
"Well it won't hurt at much as that."
"Hmph."
"I can't have any anesthetic?" I asked, knowing how much of a wuss I must have looked like.
"Only if you see a doctor."
"Right, I'm going to trick my brain into this being okay." Jumping off the bed, I went to my bag, found the packet of disprin that lives in there and swallowed two down.

"There. Disprin fixes everything." My Mum used to tell me that as a kid.

Did the trick. The freezing only took a couple of minutes and other than stinging a bit, all was fine. No real pain. The only thing that was stinging after she finished was my pride after being such a wuss.

The toe was bandaged up and I was told to come back in two weeks. I've also got to keep chipping away at it with the same stuff she was using (obtained from a good chemist) as well as keep it covered at all times.

Fun times are ahead. Keep my toe bandaged up, treat it with the freezing stuff every two days.

Still thing all this stuff is gross. Then again, most things that grow off of our bodies. Carbunkles, warts, corns, scars, skin tags... you name it, they all make us unique. We all have them. We all find them, to a point, gross.

Right, I'm taking my bandaged toe and my fledgling cold to bed now. It's been a trying day and I start a new job in the morning.

1 comment:

  1. Yuuuuuk! Angela had a tiny wart on her finger that took us months to get rid of - freezing at the doctors (you think you're a wuss, she screamed the place down) followed by nightly application of wart-off and bandaid. Thought it would never go, but it did eventually.
    Yes Disprin fixes everything - my mum taught me that too. But we had to have the dissolved kind. The yuckier the taste the better the medicine!

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