ok, so it’s not like the movie about the irish guy who could only move his left foot. this is more about the removal of a foot, which technically, is, err, the right one.

see, if i had my foot cut off……

well, it’s hard to imagine this scenario, really. all i could think of, right now, in my current fluffy, pink-brained state, is not being able to wear cute high heels anymore. or heck, ANY cute shoes anymore.

but i guess it would mostly be a huge blow to the self-esteem. the feeling of powerlessness. anger and denial, inevitably. the loss of a limb you’ve depended on all your life and taken for granted, is not exactly something you’d readily accept.

he was scheduled to have his foot amputated yesterday, coz well, it’s pretty bad now and threatening to infect his bone, or something gory like that. but due to his protests, one of the docs decided to try to clean up the wound again and salvage it for a while more.

he used to be big on steaks just before he got struck by that heart attack more than two years ago, and right after, i got put off by large chunks of meat sizzling on hot iron plates. i believe i’d only consumed one or two meals of steaks since then, all the while feeling my arteries being clogged up like wads of hair in the bathroom sink.

he used to be big on sweet beverages and coffee, always waving away our warnings, saying there’s always the “medicine” he has to take daily to ‘ward off’ anything bad. which he always skipped, coz he hated eating medicine, the stubborn man that he was, and still is.

he used to be big on sleeping and general siesta-ing, hardly ever exercising, and always giving excuses not to go for outings with us, saying that he wants to sleep or rest at home. and since he got sick and on constant medication, all he CAN do is sleep and rest. and he can’t go on outings with us anymore either, since being unable to walk.

i am guilty of reflecting on these things, even that imminent amputation, with a little… detachment, because, well, i don’t feel as close as i should be to the man. i know i’m supposed to go find out more from the doctor about the situation or something, but i don’t. i know i’m supposed to give words of courage and empathy, but i can’t. i know i’m supposed to reach out and… do something, but what? it baffles me, coz communication has *never* been a stronghold in our relationship.

i have little idea how to do anything except, well, watch the deterioration from the sidelines and wait.

i’m almost as cold and numb as his rotting foot.

if it had been her in his place, you can be sure i’d be a right wreck and things would be drastically different – i’d feel as if i’d be the one losing my right foot. but then again, *she* has always been the stronger one, the smarter one, the forward-looking one who always took care of her health and ours. the more loving and lovable one.

so anyway, erm, there isn’t a point to this entry really. just an update on what’s going on right now, and whatever you can read between the lines.

till the next fluffy, pink-brained entry!

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