OH GOD THE BLISTER HURTS
OH MY GOD this is the most painful blister I have ever had in my entire life.
Typically when I have a blister on my foot, it will hurt for the first mile or so of a walk and then my body will realize that I’m not going to stop walking because of some measly blister and will turn the pain receptors off. It’s super convenient.
But not this blister.
Not today.
It was feeling a little better during the middle of my walk, but by the time I had about five miles left it was hurting so badly that I was almost crying. And I like to think that I have a pretty high pain tolerance.
(Example: I’ve had to dig chunks of glass out of the bottoms of my feet/toes with tweezers before – no crying there. I cut and removed stitches out of my leg before because I didn’t want to go back to the doctor – no crying there, either.)
OUCH. Maybe if I wrap the hell out of it with bandages/tape it won’t be too bad tomorrow. I have to run on it, too, so that will be fun.
BLISTER
My entire little toe on my right foot is a blister.
Like, almost literally, the entire thing.
I have no idea why I sometimes get blisters but 99% of the time I don’t…it’s not like I alter how much I run/walk by any huge amounts week by week.
Anyway.
IT HURTS.
Dear Merriam-Webster: A Suggestion
I submit a new word to you: Blistoe
Blistoe (\ ˈblis-tō \) – noun
Definitions:
- a toe that is upwards of 80% covered in blisters by area
- a toe so covered in blisters that it is no longer recognizable as an actual toe but instead appears like a giant blister leeching to the front part of a foot
- A nightmare-inducing monstrosity that the body should not be capable of producing but will do so under extreme stress
Uses in sentences:
“My 30-mile walks have given me two very painful and very frightening-looking blistoes.”
“OH GOD WHERE’S MY LITTLE TOE oh wait, it’s under that big blister. I guess it’s a blistoe now.”
“This blistoe looks like a tumor.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAH THE PAIN FUCK YOU BLISTOES!!!!”
Etc.
Eigenblogger 