Is 26 too early for a hip replacement?

I was desperately hopeful that, thanks to my new and exciting surroundings, I would be motivated to do a long, fascinating blog the likes of which not yet been witnessed here.  That is not the case.  My hips hurt, my fingers hurt, my feet hurt, and my brain has been a little occupied keeping all that manageable while I carried stuff up today that was left in the garage late last night.

Still, I’ll post an update and maybe something interesting will accidentally find its way in.

The new apartment seems very nice to me.  It’s clean and spacious and the complex we now belong too might be fun once I can drag my feeble, old man limbs down to the pool and fitness room.

I complain but I’m actually feeling much better than I thought I would be.  My hips and fingers are really stiff, but my muscles bounced right back.  My thighs are a little sore, but not bad at all considering the burn I was feeling last night.  Maybe all that food I was eating helped.  Yesterday I was hungrier than I have been for years.  Constantly, achingly, angrily hungry.  Massive amounts of food and caffeine are really all that kept me on my feet and I except for the parts where I wasn’t eating or drinking, I was pleased with my appetite.

Those who know me know how much I enjoy being barefoot.  Those who have known me for a long time know that I’ve been scampering about shoeless as much as possible for a pretty long time now.  Those who have been in my vicinity for several years have noticed; it’s been mentioned to me by strangers who see me often.

It’s strange to be barefoot so much.  I suppose I can’t argue with that, by the definition of “strange”.  Most people do not go around barefoot all that often.  It is not normal.  I’m not sure why other people find it so offensive.  Why does it gross them out?  As far as health goes, it’s my feet.  I am responsible for their cleanliness and if I don’t mind occasionally walking in dirty places, why should you?  I guarantee I wash my feet more often than you wash your shoes and I watch where I step more carefully.

I would not recommend eating off my feet or off the floor where they’ve been.  If you were going to do that, I must insist you remain disappointed.  I wouldn’t particularly advise eating off my shoes or the floor where they have been either.  Or anyone else’s shoes.  If that’s your thing… well I refuse to feel bad about what harm my feet may be bringing to your extremely weird eating surface.

Are you worried about mold or fungus or whatever other nasty things are known to grow on a person’s feet?  Educate yourself, fool.  Molds and fungus grow in warm, moist, dark environments.  They grow inside a shoe and sock on dirty, sweaty feet.  Walking around barefoot my feet get plenty of air and light and thus stay dry and growth free.  I have never in my life had a foot disease.

Even though I’ve already addressed it, there’s some vague “health” stigma about being barefoot in a place where food is served.  Not even served, sold for that matter, such as a gas station.  I don’t know what the basis for that is.  Not many states have health or fire codes regarding being barefoot in public places but plenty of people still seem to cite these mysterious laws.  Other people’s hair and hands and breath and clothes pose a far greater risk to the food on your table than my feet do on the floor.  And my feet pose no greater threat than someone’s shoes.  I have smelled shoes that pose a far greater health risk than my feet ever have.

Sure, there’s a risk of injury.  Stress fractures and broken toes and cuts are not unheard of.  These are risks I take, try to avoid, but generally find acceptable.  I have no more interest in contracting gangrene than anyone else does, when I do have an open wound I clean it, bandage it, and protect it until it’s healed.

I like feeling the ground.  Grass and water and sand and even pavement, I like standing on whatever face the earth has beneath me.  It makes me feel unencumbered and at ease wherever I am.  You don’t have to see any value in that, but why spoil my fun just because it isn’t your way?  Feel free to point and laugh and ask me why and giggle behind my back; but there’s no reason to call the manager over and ask me to be removed from the sight of your children before I convert them to my pagan, unshod ways.

And now that you’ve enjoyed that lovely rabbit trail, back to the moving topic.

I spent about half the moving process barefoot.  My feet are strong and tough and I am comfortable and confident doing physically demanding things while barefoot.  Lifting and carrying heavy things was not particularly taxing for the first few hours.  I dropped a couple things on my feet and I stubbed my toes a couple times—I’m quite sure one of my toes is broken—but like I said, that’s a known and acceptable risk.

But it was over 100 most of the day and when it came to moving stuff into the apartment there was a stretch of gravel to walk over and the stairs up to our door have a coarse pebble aggregate surface.  By about 6 p.m. my feet were torn right up.  My soles were stained completely black from the grime that covers every outdoor surface in this city except for a few abraded spots that were both worn sensitive and pretty definitely burned from the hot pavement and truck ramp.

At that point I put shoes on.  I don’t regret my decision and I will continue to gallivant around barefoot whenever possible.  As soon as the skin grows back.

That seems like plenty of my words for tonight.  I’ll leave you with a special edition CotD since you were deprived yesterday and the traditionally awful Saturday showing would in no way make it up to you.  Bug deserved recognition yesterday, as on so many days, so it’s getting it now.  Go read it and laugh.  Now.

On a semi-related note, I’ve decided to try out a different art style for the Berserker Labs proprietary comic.  Tomorrow will be what you’ve seen thus far, but next week may hold something new and exciting!  Sleep well, munchkins.