Wanna play a guessing game with me? YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. WAIT, YOU TOTALLY DON’T? Too bad.

So what makes a portly pregnant woman even sexier than she already is? You’re totally not gonna guess this one. Because if *I* had to guess, I’d say a black eye. Which is always in style.

But if you guessed this, go get yourself a cookie and some bourbon.

It’s my Moon Boot! And it’s hotter than you.

See, back in June, I hurt my foot and wound up in the ER. Sadly, it was not performing some amazingly heroic feats, like rescuing some adorable and fluffy kittens from a burning building or climbing up a tree to rescue Little Timmy’s kite, no, nothing so amazing.

I slipped on the fallen-over baby gate and cracked the shit out of it. It was never broken, the ER doc informed me, so I just let bygones be bygones (and so on and so on) and let it heal on it’s own.

Except that it never did. Probably, at least in part, to the 20 pounds I’ve packed on since then (I’m not fat, I’m just big boned).

Begrudgingly I made an appointment with an orthopaedic doctor in the area, while glaring menacingly at my foot as I spoke on the phone, making damn sure that it too was was aware that IT MIGHT GO TO THE DOCTOR. I tried in vain to scare it into submission and healing, but it did not work well. In fact, my foot had the audacity to ignore me. Obviously.

See, I drag my feet (get it!?! PUN TIME!) whenever I have to go to the doctor, especially a specialist, because I go to about 3,476 specialists. This makes me feel like either the sickliest person on the planet, sufferer of Munchausen’s, OR a complete and total hypochondriac.

I’m actually none of those. I just have a number of irritatingly irritating conditions that require specialists, as my GP would probably lose my phone number accidentally on purpose whenever I needed more blood work. I have, in no particular order a gastroenterologist (Crohn’s disease), an OB/GYN (crotch parasite), an endocrinologist (hypothyroidism), and now an orthopod (bruised bone, damaged joint). I also have a terrible case of gas, but that’s neither here nor there.

But, with crotch parasite in tow, I’m unable to be treated by my orthopod in a way that would normally help (read: massive narcotics) (read: awesome), so I’m relegated to a moon boot and an ice pack.

Awesome.

My best friend is getting married in a couple weeks, and while she asked that we wear “black strappy shoes,” I think she’s going to flip when she sees what I’ve taken that order to mean. Sorry, Ashley.

And as for me, in the meantime, I’m going to relish my pregnant and crippled status as best I can. Maybe people will let me cut in line or something. Because dude, if you can’t have narcotics, what good is being hurt?

Comments

comments

49 thoughts on “I Done Brought Sexy Back

  1. Black strappy shoes! ha! Hey, she should have been more specific. ๐Ÿ™‚

    I’m so sorry…but then again, you DO get drugs, so what’s to be sorry about? I say enjoy it and demand to be waited on hand and foot. You deserve it.

  2. I’ve lovingly referred to my children as parasites on more than one occasion, but never ‘crotch parasites.’ That’s a whole new ball game.

    Seriously, I think you should make the Daver either stay home to wait on you, or hire you a maid for the next few weeks (or years, whatever).
    Happy Healing!

  3. that sucks! I had a friend who broke her ankle towards the end of her pregnancy, talk about weird looking, pregnant lady on crutches! Hope it heals fast!

  4. I have you beat….
    I see….gastoenterologist ( i have crohn’s too)
    ob—36 weeks prego
    endocrinologist–pcos
    perinatologist—because of prego and gestational diabetes
    rhumetologist—again for the crohns and the carpal tunnel
    and a chiropractor—-threw my back out a few years ago

  5. Damn, lady. You’ve been letting yourself go lately. In all seriousness, maybe you better take advantage of the boot and take it easy for a little while.

  6. Dude that totally sucks! The Daver should totally get you a maid to clean and/or watch the sausages while you rest that foot!

  7. You should get yourself a temporary (until the child in the oven turns 18) handicapped parking pass – and use it, if and when you do get out. And, if you can’t convince the Daver to do all the grocery shopping, be sure to ride the electric grocery shopping cart in the store.

  8. I’m all for sensible shoes but dude, seriously? The only place that bugger belongs is in a Toby Keith video, right where we “stick a boot in your ass cuz it’s the American way.”
    Did you at least ask for a scrip for when you can take them????? I think that’s fair.

  9. You just might be at the age where your body starts to fall apart, piece by agonizing piece. I usually just self medicate (read: red wine) instead of funding the medical profession’s next line of BMWs. But once in awhile a dr’s office visit is necessary. Why do they come in the room and ask, “How are you?” I always feel like saying, “Fine,” even when I’m obviously not fine or I wouldn’t be there.

  10. My best friend Colleen wore a moon boot to her sisters wedding in May. She actually had a stress fracture from running too marathons in one year. Sort like a baby gate… ๐Ÿ˜‰

  11. Oh Bec! We’re TWINS!! IDENTICAL COUSINS!

    ‘cept my boot is light grey. At least you aren’t riding a dork trolley like me….

    xox

  12. I had to wear one a few years back when I broke a toe from sliding into the bathtub when I was running into the bathroom to turn up “I Love It When You Call Me Big Poppa” on the radio, because that’s my jam. (True story).

    I had a total crush on a guy at work and had to wear THAT thing for two weeks. Bah! I married his ass anyway. He found my “frankenfoot” sexy hot and yours is too!

  13. You can too have narcotics! In fact narcotics are safer than any other drug for the unborn gestatiing child. Really no joke! I broke a rib coughing on the friggen toilet due to pnemonia and I got narcotics. In fact I saw a perintologist (specialiazes in fetuses) and did you know its safer to be a heroine addict on methadone than it is to be an addict on coke or crank and pregnant?

    O.k. enough of the fucked up drug culture education and pregnancy…..I hope you get rid of the ugly black moon boot soon and feel like dancing!

  14. WHERE can I get a pair of those? And must I be tall? Ok with skirts?

    Damn petite fashion, I never get in on the trendy stuff.

    If there’s not a special parking place for you . . .

  15. Baby, you’d be hot even with a chastity belt.

    You do realize that there are forces greater than yourself telling you to sit back and not do shit for like the next three years, right?

    I’M TOTALLY SERIOUS. Did you know, they even do grocery deliveries these days?

    The most important words for a woman with 3 children and a husband who works 80 hours a week: Keep Mama Happy. Nothing Else Matters!

  16. OOOO, ouchie ow-wow.
    I’d rather be a Munch-er or a hypo any day than suffer through the real crap “They” can’t or won’t fix quickly. Hope you heal soon!

  17. You know that commercial where the mom bundles the kiddos in bubble wrap? You seriously need some bubble wrap and you need it – like – yesterday.

  18. okay you totally got me with crotch parasite.

    I had to think about it and then when I got it I laughed out loud.

    Sorry about your booty, er bootie.

    Hope you’re feeling better soon!

  19. Sweet Lord, that sucks! I’m sure you’ll rock the wedding gear with the black strappy boot. Very rock & roll.

    I remembered when my husband would cut in line at a busy (I’m talking people waiting inside, outside, on top of each other) restaurant and he’d say to the hostess, “My wife is pregnant and due any second. She has a craving for this restaurant and would like it before she delivers. Do you think we could get a table NOW?” and we would be seated right away.

    People would also let me cut in line because I must’ve looked terribly uncomfortable at 5’2″ and having gained at least 50 pounds.

    Your other option is to threaten to kick people with your boot.

  20. Pregnant lady in a loverly moon boot, NICE! You work that for all it’s worth, Auntie. Cut in line, have people go get your food at the all-you-can-eat buffet on Sunday, you name it.

    Can you dance in it? If you can, I expect to see some wedding shots of you rocking on the dance floor. It’s classic, but it would be better with a black eye!

  21. I’m amidst studying a chapter on parasitology. And you mention crotch parasite and I go, “Dude, did she REALLY just mention a crotch parasite? Yeast isn’t a parasite and neither is … wait a minute, crabs ARE a parasite. DOES SHE HAVE CRABS?? DID SHE JUST MENTION HAVING CRABS ON HER FUCKING BLOG?” And then I removed my brain from my rectum and remembered that parasite = symbiotic relationship = bun in the oven. I am SO dumb. And maybe tired. Maybe just dumb.

    So glad you don’t have crabs,
    LilSass

    (p.s. that’s not the first time I’ve signed a letter that way)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *