I went to the concert on Friday night.
First of all, the craziest thing happened. On Wednesday, I, stupidly, walked my daughter to an activity 1.6 miles away from my house. We were running a few minutes late, so I decided to shrug off common sense and wear my brand new shoes without socks. Dumb. I knew I’d pay for it, but I’m a runner, and I’ve had blisters millions of times. No big deal.
After getting home that night, the blisters were no big deal. On Thursday they were in a little pain – I mean, I had four big blisters. But they just felt like four big blisters. Then on Thursday evening, they started to hurt. I mean, really they hurt. Oh, I should probably mention that 1) I drained my blisters with a needle that I didn’t take the time to sterilize; 2) After draining the blisters, I didn’t bother putting band-aids on them, and then went to the library, supermarket, and all sorts of other errands wearing flip-flops. (Dumb, dumb, dumb).
Later on in the evening, my foot started to hurt very badly. In about 45 minutes, my toe went from totally normal, if only a little pinkish, to a dark, angry red. It was throbbing and swollen. Something wasn’t right. I kept trying to drain the blister, I soaked it. I was getting worried. I couldn’t even walk on my foot. Instead of feeling like I had a blister, I felt like I’d had my pinky toe smashed by a hammer.
My husband was out, and when he got home, I told him that something was wrong with my foot. Usually, I ignore common sense and little messages from my body (obviously). The pain had grown to the point where I realized, “maybe my body is trying to tell me something.” yeah.
I called a friend of mine who is an artist and a nurse. She agreed (at 9:44 PM) to let me come over so she could look at my feet.
“They are pretty mad. Not completely angry, but very mad,” She told me. She instructed me to soak them in salt, put this Mom’s Stuff Salve on them, and then wrap them up. She also told me that if they started itching or if the redness expanded, then to go to the emergency room.
“I think you caught it just in time,” she explained.
So, I did as she instructed and went home. The entire time I was thinking, “I better be able to get to the concert on Friday night!!!” (One of my friends had an infection recently on her hand – MRSA or something – and she had to be admitted into the hospital for a few days. I think that I caught my infection in enough time for my body to heal without the aid of super-antibiotics.
Okay. The point is: I nearly missed my concert because I’m too lazy to get a pair of socks and too lazy to sterilize needles.
Even though my feet were killing me, I was able to go to the symphony. I felt foolish because I was wearing flip flops, but at that point my feet hurt more than my pride did. I couldn’t put on a shoe. Two more of my blisters had gotten infected, so my feet were just killing me.
I’m so glad I was able to go to the concert. It was perfect. I took a notebook with me, and took every note I could. I feel like my hyper-awareness actually made the experience better for me. In fact, I think that I’m going to choose to take fewer pictures of my experiences. The idea of taking a picture seems like a nice way to honor/remember the experience. However, we remember less of it when we are busy snapping pictures. It is my feeling that taking pictures of a sunset turns us into a “consumer” of the experience rather than a first hand “experiencer.”
Not sure if that makes sense to you, but it does to me.
All in all, the experience was great. Watching these artists was inspiring. I will never be a regular/obsessed concert goer, ironically enough. I mean, I play the piano – a lot and rather well. But, I’ve realized that regular classical concerts might not be my thing. Occasional ones, yes. But I doubt I’ll ever be a season ticket holder. (Again it has to do with the consumption/production thing. This is major for me.)
Anyway – go do your research. It can be fun. You might learn something. And don’t be dumb. Wear socks. Sterilize your instruments. Don’t get infected blisters. 🙂