Ugh! All was not well when I awakened on Saturday morning. The souvenir from my Tours "trip" was still with me in the form of a very swollen and painful pied. Craig's flight was due into Paris and then he would have a train ride ahead of him, so I thought we had time to visit the emergency room before he arrived. Mathieu and Darcy drove me to the hospital and helped to explain to the staff what had happened to me the previous day. Mathieu remained in the waiting room when Darcy had to leave for the train station while my foot was being examined. I emerged from the hospital a couple of hours later, after five x-rays, with my foot heavily wrapped and my knees bandaged, holding a list of three prescriptions which Mathieu kindly picked up for me. I later found that the entire ER experience had only set me back about $60. Yet another reason to love France!
The doctor had informed me that the fall had bent the toes on my left foot completely backward, resulting in a painful injury often referred to as "turf toe", since it is common among football players. He said that I must keep the foot wrapped for ten days and that I should be able to walk on it if I wore a larger shoe. And it was okay, albeit very painful.
It was good to see my travel-weary husband after Mathieu and I returned from the hospital. Craig had been able to maneuver well in Paris and had managed to board the 11:00 train, as I had done. The birthday gift I had laughingly presented to him in March was apparently not needed. It was a cute idea, and he loved it anyway. I had given him a t-shirt with several handy French phrases printed on it. It said such things as "un taxi s'il vous plaît" and "Gare d'Austerlitz". On the back was printed a message that anyone finding this lost tourist, please return him to his daughter at such-and-such address.