Saturday, November 17, 2012

The Unfortunate Story of an Unfortunate Foot

The day was Thursday.

It had been a pretty mild day at Target thus far.

We had a food truck delivery, but it was a small one and had been pushed to the floor with minimal time and stress.

I had taken the large metal cage of empty cardboard boxes back to crush them into the large bales that get recycled, and one of my coworkers was about to help me lift it up onto the stack of collapsed cages per standard clean up routine.

I went to slide it into a slightly better position for the part where we had to lift 100+ pounds of awkward metal up four feet into the air, and managed to slam a wheel into the inside of my right foot in the process.

It hurt. A lot.

But don't worry, all coworkers who witnessed and whom encountered me shortly afterwards as I bemoaned my hurting appendage were full of concern and sage advice.

...........if by concern you read "told me I was dumb to do that" and by advice you heard "just walk it off".  


So, being the slightly prideful person which I am, I attempted to not be wuss and gimped my way out of the store, consoling myself with thoughts of ice packs awaiting me at home.

But then I couldn't even drive on it (luckily my car is an automatic and I have left foot dexterity), and it kept hurting and swelling more and more on my way home.

So upon my ever-increasing-gimpy-status arrival home my parents had a brief logistical consultation, and my father whisked me back down to Boulder to have a few xrays taken.

Now of course, no visit to a doctors office for pain is complete without having the pained part thoroughly poked and prodded, and this one was no exception.

A few pokes and xrays later, I was informed that my foot was decidedly NOT broken, and that I just got to suck it up for a few days.

They did, however, put me in a walking boot cast for a week (to protect it from getting banged more than anything else, but as shoes are still uncomfortable from where the bruise is, I'm happy to wear it), and put down a work restriction for me of walking less than an hour a day.

And so, I got to witness first hand the selling out of our entire stock of Twinkies before 8:15am on Friday after Hostess announced their factory stopping production as I was reassigned to cashiering on a stool after going through the incident report process.

I also took full advantage of my familiarity with the Market department to get a bag of frozen peas to use as an ice pack on my breaks.

Most remarkably, between the stool assignment (which I may or may not now have butt bruises from), regular dosing of ibuprofen, and ice on breaks I made it through the work day with minimal discomfort.

And then I got home.

And small children do not understand nor properly respect doctor notes requiring limiting mobility like the Target Corporation does.

Or like, even how they probably shouldn't try to stand on Mommy's boot cast while it's propped up on the coffee table.

Which is how the few hours between when I got home and when they went to bed were substantially more demanding of my walking around and caused noticeably much more soreness in my foot than the entire workday had been. 

And so, it is with great anticipation I return to work on Monday, eagerly anticipating my stool and frozen peas that are awaiting me and the piece of paper that allows me to shuffle off to rest at any moment I happen to want to.

Yep, it's good of them to let me work instead of making me stay home and "rest".

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