Hello Pinky.

I showed my little toe to my neighbour last night (she's not a healthcare professional, but there was nothing on the TV) and she agreed that if it was still painful after 10 days, enough to make me cry at my desk, it was probably broken. Shit. I knew it really, but I also knew there was nothing much that can be done. She advised me to tape it to the next toe so it wouldn't move around. I looked for some sensible fabric plasters, but all I found were some Hello Kitty ones. Now no-one is going to take my broken toe seriously. Even though it really, really hurts and I deserve lots of love and cuddles and treats.