ab·la·tion [a-bley-shuhn] noun
1. the removal, especially of organs, abnormal growths, or harmful substances, from the body by mechanical means, as by surgery.
2.the reduction in volume of glacial ice, snow, or névé by the combined processes of melting, evaporation, and calving. Compare alimentation
3. Aerospace. erosion of the protective outer surface (ablator) of a spacecraft or missile due to the aerodynamic heating caused by travel at hypersonic speed during reentry through the atmosphere.
Years ago, my ex HJ – Murphy’s Mum, and I were playing water volleyball in Lake Travis when I cut the hell outta the bottom of my foot – slashed open by a sliver of glass.
Like some bad sci-fi feature, planter’s warts infested and infiltrated that wound, and grew weirdly into a cauliflower type colony that became crippling to the point that I could barely wear sandals.
I went to see a podiatrist in San Antonio and the news was not good.
Two treatments were available. I chose the harsher but surer. Chemical ablation. It took weeks and weeks to burn it down during which was a pain so severe.
Surprisingly, I only had two foot problems on the first walk: A corn that blistered up occasionally. And a left phalange that when quashed down by the weight of my pack lost a toenail times two.
YBD’s Notes 1: Still don’t know what the hell a corn is but it’ll travel with me on Walk 2.
YBD’s Notes 2: It was an amateur’s mistake. I carried so much weight on the first walk that my toes grew by a half inch. My 11.5 became a 12.
YBD’s Notes 3: There’s no shelter for love. There are some things that just don’t burn down and love is one of them.