Superstition Not Foolproof Shock

Driving to the midday training session today I consciously thought, 'I could dislocate a toe today.' I do this as a superstitious charm against all the possible ills of the big bad world.
Every phone call at odd hours I think, 'That's someone ringing because something terrible has happened.' Every time I get on my bike I think, 'I could die today.' Every time I get dizzy when I stand up I think, 'There's a blood vessel just exploded in my brain.'

My reasoning is thus; bad things can happen unexpectedly. If you think about them they are expected. Therefore they can't happen. QED.

Bollocks.

Today at training I dislocated a toe. Again. This time the little toe on my right foot. We weren't even sparring hard, I just had my leg in the wrong position, my foot twisted on the mat and I felt the toe pop. I think I heard it as well, but the mind plays tricks.
I sat there cursing, thinking about the recovery time for my previous toe, which still aches, and wondering if I could be bone-hard enough to re-locate it myself. I grabbed it and gave a half-hearted tug. It felt like a marble loose in the finger of a glove. It was also pretty bloody painful and, I decided, best dealt with under local anesthetic.

Last time Dom took me to emergency and I was seen fairly quickly. I did have the dubious advantage then of having a bone jutting out of my foot with the torn off toe flapping about like a wind sock. Today I don't think triage would have put the poor grown man with the ouch in his widdle pinky toe to the top of the list and I would have had a long afternoons wait with a dozen violent meth heads. I made a doctor's appointment at a local clinic. Our family doctor bulk bills and is generally excellent, this means you have to plan your illness weeks in advance. Today I just saw the available doctor.

Doctor: What seems to be the problem?
Myninjacockle: I've dislocated my toe.
D: Hmmm. Which one?
M: The purple swollen one sticking out perpendicular to my foot. (To be fair I have pretty wonky toes)
D: (Prodding) Does this hurt?
M: No.
D: (Prodding and twisting) This?
M: Ow, yes.

Doctor continues prodding and twisting for considerable time. The Noodle, who has tagged along, continues daubing his new blue t-shirt with a half eaten red jelly bean.

D: I'm not sure its dislocated.
Noodle: Silly.
D: Where did you learn that naughty word?
M: Can you stop twisting it then please? (Lady, you ain't heard nothing yet)
D: (Stops administering pain) You'll need to get an x-ray.
M: I'm pretty sure it's dislocated, can't you just pop it back in?
N: Bike. Helmet. Up! Baa baa row boat.
D: No, I'll need to see the x-ray.
M: Well what do you think is wrong?
N: (throws remains of jelly bean at me)Yucky.
D: Won't know for sure without...
M: An x-ray, I get it. Well what might the treatment be.
D: Oh all we can do is strap it, it'll just tell us how long to strap it for.

So she proceeded to strap it. She'd make a great horse doctor. Oh I've got just the treatment for this. Bang! As she was doing so I was reminded of a lifestyle show I saw part of a while back, with Dr Harry. A couple had a dog that was tearing washing from the line. Dr Harry came to visit, assessed the situation, gave them a long lecture on dog psychology, and finished with his curative snake oil solution; tie the dog up on washing days. Genius!

So I don't know if her, 'Toe not straight. Tie toe to other toe. Now toe straight. Straight toe good,' approach is the condensed wisdom of decades of medical study and practice, or dangerous malpractice that will leave me with a limp. I just know with the other one the doctor twisted it and I felt it all click back into place.

Can't see the point in paying for an x-ray if nothing is going to change anyway. Reckon I'll leave it strapped for a week and see if it gets any better, then see my regular GP for a second opinion if not.

Oh, and she didn't even ask if I needed anything for the pain. It's really starting to throb now.