Walk a mile…

Love them...and in much more than a "pedicure" kind'o'way!!

Love them…and in much more than a “pedicure” kind’o’way!!

 

 

…but for the love of all things holy…

CHECK YOUR DAMN FEET!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

I came across this article:

Diabetes foot wounds led to 2,000 foot amputations: report

And I was all, “Holy shit!” and then I was all, ” This is in CANADA!!!” and then I was all:

#WTF?!?!

#WTF?!?!

 

…and then I was all, “Holy crap on a cracker…THAT’S why they were freakin’ out!!”

 

 

 

Freakin’ out?

At our biggest camping festival EVA’…I got a scratch on the bottom arch of my foot. I think I stepped on a stick. Or a pine cone.

Again.

Meh. It was, like, this itty bitty lil’ scritchity scratch and I’ve had papercuts worse than this thing…So I did what anyone would do:

I put a bandage on it (‘cuz I camp barefoot, which is a totally dumbass thing to do…let’s be clear) and ignored it.

Went hither and thither.

Went swimming.

Pulled off the soaked bandage to change it and:

OMFGIhaveaholeinmyfuckingfoot!!!!!!!!

A. HOLE. IN. MY. FOOT.

Um….honey? I showed my husband. He did what anyone would do:

Told me to go see the paramedic on duty.

Ppppppppppbbbbbbbbffffffffffttttttttttttt. Whatever. I sure as shit am NOT, but thanks. I’m sure they’re busy picking off leeches or administering advice on allergic reactions and really important shit.

But you’re diabetic…this is serious,” he said.

“…The disease damages the small blood vessels that feed the nerves in the extremities, particularly the feet. That leads to a loss of sensation, which leaves diabetics with neuropathy (the term for the condition), unable to sense small cuts, blisters or abrasions on their feet…”

He caught me, the paramedic did. Three days later. I’d avoided detection like some kind of ninja…like a bad, BAD, health advocate ninja. *shame*

I sputtered out how I had diabetes and how it’d started as a scratch and…blah blah blah. He took a Sharpie and drew a ring around the boundary of the wound.

Well, then.

Shit just got real.

Know how long it took for that “scratch” to heal? 13 days.

Almost TWO weeks. For an asshat scratch.

“…Depending on how far the damage has progressed, people can need to undergo a substantial amputation merely because what would be a small wound on someone else will not heal….”

Diabetic neuropathy.

I should have known. And it still scares the crap out of me…seeing a mo-fo HOLE in ones foot. ūüôĀ

[enter neuropathy incident #2, stage left] We’d been sitting around the campfire, and our friend asked me, “Isn’t that hot?”…referring to my feet (wrapped in my badass wool socks) that were propped up just on the outskirts of the flames.

“Nope.”

Then I thought about it. It should be hot. What the….??

When I pulled my feet back into myself to check on them, you will NOT believe what I saw:

My socks were smoking…….and I couldn’t feel a good gawddamn thing at all.

My last visit for my “let’s see how damaged your kidneys are this week” pee-in-a-cup I actually remembered to mention these events to the nurse.

Needless to say, her bug-eyed look of concern has them putting a call into my diabetes team at the Ottawa General Hospital.

Have diabetes?

Take this shit seriously.

NOW.

Have your spouse look at your feet right before bed.

Grab a kid and ask them if you have any marks or cuts on your feet.

There is, quite simply, NO excuse.

2,000.

I refuse to be a statistic and will continue to monitor something so very easily preventable.

You?

2 responses to “Walk a mile…

  1. *THIS* is why I don’t mind rubbing your feet at night while we sit on the couch. Gives me a chance to check ’em out to make sure things are ok.

  2. I’ve had a few mm I’ve already had gangrene once we caught it early.
    We can’t use heating pads or for baths soaks. Diabetics have been known to boil their feet off.
    My grandfather died because they didn’t amputate his foot in time.
    So yeah
    Scares the modo shit out of me.
    Take care of your feet please.
    I ile a planet with you on it.
    Hugs

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