I’m floating in an indoor wave pool, sitting on a tube surrounded by dozens of other people, including my cousin K.. I’m not having anything of a time, meaning to say I have no emotion about the whole thing. I’m not a fan of swimming but I don’t mind being on it so that anxiety never comes. My cousin seems to be having a good time but we decide to leave. While getting ready to go I realize my left foot hurts. I look at the bottom of it and find sever stitches across the bottom and one end of them is red and black – like necrotic flesh black. My foot is actually a transplant and the stitches are there from the previous owner I’m guessing. I point it out to my cousin and tell her it’s not normal and I should go to urgent care. She agrees but not until after we go home (her mother’s home) and get dressed and cleaned up. I agree but don’t lose focus.
When we arrive the house is packed with people I know, used to know, and know only from my dream. The house is a mess, especially the slew of couches fit around a large room at the font of the house. I find my cousin’s mother (who is actually a woman I knew in Portland or I may have called her my aunt) and let her know I need a ride to Urgent Care. She seems to agree to give me a ride and disappears to, I assume, get ready. I start looking around the house for my purse. I can’t go to the hospital without my ID and insurance card, however I’m having no luck. The woman still hasn’t appeared so I decide to sit down on a messy couch across from my uncle Rene, who is not father to my cousin btw. I notice my left leg was itchy and look down to see my entire leg covered in black veins, all the way up to my thigh and black areas forming on the side and top of my foot. I freak out a bit and tell my uncle I need to go to the emergency room, he replied with “what, for an abrasion on your leg?”. I tell him “no, my foot is going necrotic or I have a flesh eating bacteria!”. He blows me off.
I get up and look for my purse more vigorously with no luck. I start asking if anyone’s seen it and go outside to look around and find my brother out there flirting with some woman. He offers to help look and asks what it looks like “it has a roller derby logo” I say, which is not a purse I own, and my brother is not nice or helpful. Smiling like a drunkard he pretends to help for a minute before going back to flirting.
At this point, all I want is a phone to tell my partner where I am and what’s happening. He’s too far away to give me a ride but the more no one cares the more it seems more realistic. My phone is in my purse and for some reason I assume no one else has one. I start to comb the house again, thinking about the reality that I might die or lose my leg. I realize I’m not afraid to die, just not ready to, but everything seems totally out of my control. I go outside again in some last ditch effort to get someone to help. A man is standing just outside the doorway and I tell him to call 911. He just looks at me and laughs, my tongue starts to swell and fill my mouth so when I try to repeat myself I just mumble with frustration. He smirks some more and right when I’m about to black out, wondering if I’ll wake up in a hospital or never, he looks like he might be getting a phone out of his pocket. I wake up.
A fun one folks.
Photo: My actual foot after I sprained it for the 2nd time, after breaking it a couple years prior. My boots saved my leg on this one. I dropped my bike in the sand and sand in my throttle from an earlier drop (sand sucks) kept my tire spinning, my leg hit the wheel while trying to step over it. Probably would have been a really bad compound fracture in the least. Me dumb.
