More Feet Drama

So you’ve already heard the story about how wussy my feet are.  I can’t wear high heels, and I get blisters extremely easily.  Yadda yadda yadda.  A perfect example is from yesterday.  I went to get a pedicure.  A special ‘pearl spa’ pedicure.  The pearl spa pedicure consists of the application of  various goops and multiple massages on your feet and calves, all while you’re sitting in a massage chair.  It’s relaxing and lovely.  Cecilia, my pedicurist, was excellent.  Cecelia was very sweet and didn’t massage too hard, so it wasn’t painful or uncomfortable.  Like I said, sensitive feet.

At one point she applied a gel to my callouses, and then wrapped my feet up like leftovers with saran wrap.  After both feet were wrapped up, she wrapped them in hot towels.  She did a slight massage with the towels, and then she removed the towel and saran wrap from the right foot and worked on the cuticles and scrubbing the bottom of the foot.  At this point my left foot was feeling something stinging, but I just thought the goop was doing its thing.  By the time she got to taking off the towel and plastic from my left foot, I definitely knew something was wrong.  I took a quick look (it was on the back of the foot) to make sure it wasn’t bleeding (it wasn’t).  She continued to massage the foot and I thought maybe it was going to be OK.  She didn’t notice, and it wasn’t her fault that my foot got hurt.  I didn’t want to tell her because she was so sweet and I knew she’d get upset if she learned what had happened… but the more she massaged the more it hurt.  I finally said, “I think something happened to the back of my foot…”.  She looked at me surprised, then looked at the back of my foot and was shocked.  She kept apologizing and I told her I was sure it was the goop, not anything she’d done.  She kept pressing on it like she though she could put the skin back together or something.  I asked her for a band aid.  She went and got one, but before she put it on she went to get the small bottle with the green liquid.

If you’ve had a pedicure before and you’ve had any sort of small cut or bleed, you know what that little bottle means.  It means a world of pain.  I don’t know what is in that bottle.  I’m sure it’s some disinfectant, but it’s worse than putting rubbing alcohol on something.  As soon as I saw her reach for it, I said “NOT THE GREEN STUFF!”.

I think I surprised her.  But she surprised me next by grabbing a spray bottle that had disinfectant in it, as well.  I started to say no, but she sprayed anyway.  It reminded me of something my mom would spray on me after scraping my knee.  Not as bad as the green stuff, but bad enough that I said a few words.  None of them cuss words, oddly enough, but I sucked in my breath and said “ahhh!”.  She knew she had to do it.  What if this would have gotten infected?

She sprayed and then she tried putting my skin together again.  Yeah, I still don’t understand that one.  Then she put on the band aid.

See the next post.


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