A Pain In The Foot (2007.02.28)

Ok so the last blog before the wedding entry I enlightened all of you faithful readers to an unfortunate situation with my left big toe. I had just spent an afternoon unsuccessfully trying to dig out an ingrown toenail with my Leatherman tool. I was in Cochabamba for a couple of days to attend a conference on teaching English. I arrived in Cochabamba on a Saturday with plans on leaving Tuesday night. Well after looking more at my toe and starting to begin to limp a little, I supposed I needed to get it checked out. I called the Peace Corps Medical Office and they sent me to a clinic in Coch, where they cleaned it out and said that a tiny operation would be necessary at some point…it wasn’t urgent but needed to be done to prevent further pain and infection. I was hesitant to get the operation right away because I needed to get back to Hárdeman to drill two wells that weekend…and I wasn’t about to call them and say “yeah listen, my toe hurts, we can’t drill your well,” which would have definitely invited lots of gringo ridicule, enough of which I already receive.

After talking to the Peace Corps doctor some more and thinking that it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to get the operation, I decided to go ahead with it that Wednesday, hoping to get back to my site Thursday in time to start drilling on Friday.

My lovely Mexican friend Naya accompanied me to the emergency room so I didn’t have to go alone, which was super nice of her. I put my foot up on the little bench they had me sit on and the guy informed me that he was going to hit my toe with two shots of anesthesia, “little pinches” he called them. If you have ever had a needle the size of a fountain pen stuck into the top of your toe, you know that it by no means makes a “little pinch.” And I suppose after two “little pinches” that wasn’t enough so he went in for two more. This was to be the most painful part of the entire ordeal…I really really really don’t like needles. But then about 3 minutes later my toe was dead to the world and I had a good time flicking it back and forth without it hurting a bit. Then he started in with the knives and stuff…”the ugly part” he said. I watched some of it, but really didn’t enjoy most of it. I can’t even stand to watch the surgery channel, so real-life surgery being done on myself was not pleasing to my eye. I snuck a few peeks and it looked pretty gnarly, and I wish I had had my camera really. I suppose it was the news of the hour because no less than 4 other doctors and nurses who were passing by popped in to check out the gore…privacy isn’t a big thing in Bolivia. I didn’t mind really, it was just a toe.

When they were done they had sliced off about an eighth of my toenail and left a nice deep gash on the side. They bandaged it up and said not to walk on it for a day to prevent it from bleeding a ton. I got some crutches from the Peace Corps office to help out with that. I asked them how long I would have to stay in Coch and they told me ten days! I was shocked…I wanted to go back to Santa Cruz the next day! Guess that wasn’t going to happen. So much for drilling. I got some prescriptions for a bunch of stuff to help it heal and Naya and I were on our way. That night I took it easy and stayed at the hostal while most everyone else went out…I was chatting with the hostal owner (who is a bit of a talker) and she proceeded to tell me about every toenail or fingernail related injury she had ever had or any she knew had had, describing each one in detail. This is something I found to be a theme when I told people why I was in Coch. After telling them I had an ingrown toenail removed, they proceeded with a story like this:

“Oh really? Those really hurt don’t they? My brother had one once where he let it go for so long it turned green and grew this crazy mold and the doctor said they might have to remove the toe but it ended up that they just popped it and it squirted so much it got all the way up to my brother’s shirt! Can you believe that? Anyway, he was on crutches for 4 months, after which his circulation was so bad he was in a wheelchair for the rest of his life! Do you want to go grab some food?”

So now I know way more than I ever wanted to about ingrown toenails and similar injuries. I was kind of surprised to find out how prevalent they were. Here is a photo of the toe in question, but this is two weeks after surgery, once it started getting better. (Note to people with a thing about feet: Don’t Look)

As of now (four weeks after surgery), there is a nice tough scab over the cut and it doesn’t even hurt to squeeze any more. I’d say I’m back to 100%. However, this fun little experience has made me try even harder to break my terrible life-long habit of picking my fingernails and toenails. So far it is going well, but now that I’ve got these fingernails it is much more satisfying to scratch my bug bites…it’s a vicious cycle.

I thought it was pretty lame that I had to stay in Cochabamba for two weeks. As usual, things were just picking up at my site and now I would have to be out of it for two weeks, which always slows things down. But it turns out it was a good time to be there because there were a lot of volunteers coming through town for various reasons, so I got to spend some time with some quality people whom I usually don’t see because if I am in a city usually it’s in Santa Cruz. Plus it was nice to eat good food for two weeks. I saw two movies (“Flags Of Our Fathers”…pretty good but probably wouldn’t watch it again…and “Déjà Vu” which I thoroughly enjoyed and would recommend. Very well done) and caught up with our trainers, Armando and Sue. I even got a chance to go out and visit my Cochabamba host family, which was short lived but fun. Not everyone was home but it was kind of surprise and they told me next time to call a few days ahead of time so they can plan something, which sounds good.

The hostal where we stay in Cochabamba is pretty much always full of volunteers (the owners only give rooms to us and their personal friends) and completely self serve. It’s basically like a bed and breakfast…there is a kitchen and a fridge we could cook in, they give you a key to come and go as you please and there was even someone who cleaned the bathroom everyday. Combine all that with a hot-water shower, a big soft comfy bed (with good pillows!) and internet in my room (all for just five bucks a night) and you’ve got yourself a happy Peace Corps Volunteer with a nasty toe problem. I had a few meetings with my boss, during which we talked about some important stuff with my work and also attended the Volunteer Action Committee meeting…kind of like student-council for Peace Corps, which was interesting. We even got to go out on the town a few nights, which is always a good time. We found a bar that will sell us cheap beer (Coronas and Heinekens!) and plays American 80s music, which is pretty much plenty to satisfy this guy. Here I am with Kerby (from North Carolina) and Kates (from Long Island) celebrating Kerby’s amazing feat of balancing four bottles on top of one another.

It was a frustrating reason to be in Coch but by the end of my time there I was enjoying myself and really got a feel for what it might be like to be a city volunteer. It made me think about possibly staying another year once my service is up to be my boss’s assistant, traveling to all the Basic San sites and supporting the volunteers. That’s a long way off though. If you remember, this whole adventure started with a terrible, long and uncomfortable bus-ride. Well, due to the same reason that my bus took so long, the road was still closed at the end of my stay so I got to fly back to Santa Cruz! First class nonetheless, although I’m not sure why. Only in Bolivia does a 12-hour bus ride (on a good day) equal a 35-minute plane ride. Oh well, I was just glad to be on the way back to my site.