02.10.10 - 8:56 am

zero hour. it was time.

be very liberal with the cold spray. very liberal.
ok. here we go.

i barely felt the needle going in. the cold on my toe was almost more uncomfortable. this was acceptable. cold i have grown accustomed to tolerating. metal objects inserted into my toe, i have not. the blanching set in. was my toe more white this time? it certainly looked dead. zombie toe. again. i couldnt bear to watch while they stuck me. ashton stood between the two nurses, fascinated and silent.

they did the can-you-feel-this? routine to make sure i was ready, and when they were satisfied they brought in the doctor. phoebe rich. who shared a name with a moon of saturn, she exclaimed to ashton after he told her his favorite planet was saturn. she snapped open the sterile packaging. the tool looked like a screwdriver. a plastic smooth handle, with a small metal rod extending out of it. the rod was hollow and sharp. i looked down through the empty tube and shuddered that my toe was going to be squishing through it momentarily. the bodies of the sitting nurses blocked my view of their work, as did the clipboard i strategically held in the line of sight of my foot. ashton again stood among them, alternating his gaze from my foot to my face.

she began to make firm twisting motions, like she was trying to screw a board together with difficulty. i felt nothing except nausea.

ashton would stare intently. then he would look at me with disgust and quickly look back at my foot. his face would crumple and he would feign falling back in his chair as if fainting. laying there with his eyes closed for just a few moments he would stand back up and watch with raised eyebrows. i refused to watch. the level of nausea i was experiencing was teetering on passing out. i took subtle deep breaths and kept my arms above my head. anything to keep blood and oxygen in my head. it worked, but barely.

there was a pop. a slight noise like a coin dropped in a glass jar and i was presented with a small vial. a circular piece of my nail stuck to the sides of the tiny glass container. this was set on the papered tray next me as they grabbed another vial.
now to get the tissue underneath, i was told. i couldnt feel a thing down there, but i knew they were digging. cutting. plowing a trough of tissue out of the hole they just carved into my toe. ashton feigned passing out again. i cant even imagine what he was witnessing. the three nurses took turns complimenting the work of doctor rich, her steady hand and skilled cutting. i grew concerned with how long they were taking down there. i was under the impression they were to do the punch and with it would come everything they needed. but oh no. they spent another ten minutes mining and chatting and carving my nail into a key hole shape. when they finally showed me the bloody creature in the vial, i could only nod and wave it away. my eyes were desperately trying to roll back and take my consciousness with them.

the doctors continued to chat about my foot. what nice work theyd done. the bruise on my nail. how healthy my nail was. how good the toe was. this was the worst part. only because i was so uncomfortable and wanted them to be done. there was no pain, just an overwhelming need to pass out and they just kept on socializing like an after church brunch.

they asked if i wanted to look before they bandaged me.

absolutely not.

lines of white extended up and around my foot. the doctors marveled how the effects of the anesthesia were clearly visible as my bloodstream carried it around. it was pretty neat. a network of stark white through all my foot veins. and then it was done. no pain. ten vicodin for my prescription. it may be hard to sleep tonight through the throbbing pain to come, they assured me. filled with dread, ash and i left the clinic with ashton asking if i wanted to race him to the car.

im now on day two post-biopsy. ive only taken five ibuprofen since the surgery. i slept through the first night just fine, but awoke with a slight soreness in my toe. that was it. when i removed my shoe after a day of work, i found the band aid had somehow come off at some point. and my bloody mangled toe had been exposed to all the filthe the inside of a shoe can provide, all without any pain or snagging of nail.

i was impressed. i am relieved. i now have $600 i can give to sarah for child support.