Blue Toes

I hear my name called and hobble to the little room. The nurse in there asks me my birthday and if I have any allergies to medication. Then she asks why I’m there. I tell her that I fell playing basketball and rolled my ankle. She nods her head and types something into her computer. Then she bends over and touches my foot.

“Did you have an icepack on, Hon?”

“Yep, I did.”

“Don’t put the icepack directly on your skin next time.”

“Okay.”

She looks back at my foot. Her eyes widen.

“Do your toes always look like that?”

The Story of the Llama (5.13.11)

I lie on the memory foam bed and stare at the empty, white hall. Then I see her, being wheeled in her large wheelchair, by a nurse in blue scrubs. There she is, in her colorful sweater, with her white hair falling to her shoulders. The nurse tirelessly listens to the elderly woman’s lively chattering. From my room, I catch only a short snippet of the conversation between the nurse and patient, but what she says brings a smile to my pain filled face and distracts my mind with guessing what story is behind her strange statement.

“He has llamas!”