I’ve developed a ganglion cyst in the knuckle of my big toe on my left foot. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s like a teeny tiny water balloon but instead of water it’s filled with joint fluid. And the more it fills up, the more pressure it causes and, of course, the more pain. Until finally….POP…it bursts.
According to the foot doctor, most people get them on the wrist and they used to call them Bible Bumps. Why? Because in the olden days, they would use a Bible to whack it with and cause it to burst. Why a Bible? Because it was generally the heaviest book in the house and it’s softer (slightly) than a 2×4.
Anyway, this one on my foot has grown and burst several times over…to the point that I know when it gets really painful, it’s about ready to pop and then it’ll be better for awhile. When it’s inflamed it hurts to walk or bend my big toe, even just having a shoe on can be painful. And, no foolin’, it really does feel better almost immediately after the cyst bursts. It’s kinda crazy.
So a few weeks ago it was in the really painful part of this cycle. Just really driving me nuts. Enough so that I decided to speed up the process a bit.
“Hey, honey….I need you to take this Bible and whack my foot with it.”
“Yea, can you just whack my foot with this so the thingy will burst and it’ll stop hurting so much? Please?”
“Your sure you want me to smack you with a Bible?”
“Yes…a good husband would do it.”
Ya…that’s pretty much how that conversation went down. Eventually he agreed and then spent 5 minutes lining up my foot so he could hit it just right. It was like he was teeing up on the ninth fairway. By the time he was actually ready to swing I think he was enjoying the prospect a bit too much.
“Stop grinning and whack it already. But you have to hit it hard enough to burst it the first time because I’m pretty sure I won’t let you do it a second time.”
When he finally decided he had the correct angle and that my foot was properly propped up on yet another Bible, he took his holy book in both hands and raised it over his head. (My niece has rightly suggested that at this point he should have yelled out: “The power of Christ compels you!”…which would have been awesome). I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the arms of my chair….
Holy MotherF$%@&#!!!!! Well, it was holy because of the proximity to 2 Bibles but everything else that came out of my mouth after that point was pure filth. I stood straight up out of the chair on my good foot, curse words spewing from my mouth. And I didn’t even use them in the correct context…it was just a jumble of random profanity. I immediately sat back down and covered my head with my arms, muttering to myself while tears streamed from my eyes.
My husband, on the other hand, wavered between consoling me and laughing at me.
“I’m so sorry babe. But, remember that you did ask me to do it. And what did you just say?”
I sat like that for a good 5 minutes or so until I could get ahold of myself. Then I gingerly felt my foot…sure enough, the lump was gone!
“Wahoo! It worked! When my foot quits throbbing it’s going to feel so much better!”
And it did, it totally did. By that evening the pain from being whacked with a Bible had gone away and the next morning I was completely pain free. Now the question is, knowing how much it hurt, will I have him do it again the next time…