Three days ago, I broke a bone in my little toe.  I don't know how and I really don't know when.  Likely I dropped a firewood log on it, but as I say, I don't know.  All I knew for sure was it really hurt, so much that I could barely walk.

Linda suggested I go to Emergency at the hospital, but I declined, for two reasons.  First, the wait there depends on considered need, so I could be there for four or five hours before anyone even looked at me, this on top of the hour's drive to get there.  Then they would likely put a cast on it, say:  “Keep your foot up for a few days and don't get it wet.”

Both of these doctor's orders would be impossible for me, when you consider how I live.  I walk the dogs and bring in the wood every day, regardless of the weather and have to be on hand to do any other work required to keep the home running smoothly. So I chose to  to try a herbal cure.  If it didn't work, then I'd go the hospital route and hope for the best.

I had some comfrey leaves which I'd dried a few years ago, and although they didn't smell too good, they were the best available.  I put a handful in my double boiler, covered them with vegetable oil and simmered them over water for an hour.  Then after straining out the leaves, I thickened the oil with beeswax and poured it off into jars to let it cool.

My toe felt better as soon as I smeared some ointment onto it.  “Hey, this might work” says I.  I've been applying the cre`me whenever I thought of it and the pain has almost gone.  There's still some swelling, but it's going down and that's after only three days.

Something that happened a couple of years ago made me think this would work. Some friends visited us with their company, who I suspected were wearing out their welcome.  The lady'd hurt her foot and could barely walk.  She collapsed onto our couch and I picked some green comfrey leaves from our garden.  She wrapped the hurt foot with them and immediately felt better.  By the time they left, she could walk to the car without hopping and e-mailed us later to say her foot was healed before they reached home.

Big Pharma really hate comfrey.  They've used their PR machine to put out rumours that it mustn't be used internally ever, although I have at least two herb books that say the young leaves are good in a spring salad.  They imply it's a really dangerous plant.  Could they be afraid that the Old English name for it of “Knit Bone” actually be true?

I took my wounded foot to the doctor after two days for her to look at. She poked the joint where it had been most painful before and wondered if it was gout.  Now I've had gout, badly enough to believe that a man alone in the woods with gout could have shot his foot off to stop the pain.  We wrapped my foot with a cayenne pepper-and-oil poultice inside a plastic bag a couple of times, which relieved the pain enough for me to be able to think again.  I've had mild attacks of gout for many years as a side effect of my psych. pills and normally take a tea of Golden Rod to relieve it.  I suppose the extreme case was brought on by attention to other things, which happens a lot out here.

The doctor was very interested in the other properties of Golden Rod, after I told her this.  It's a marvelous antiseptic, so good that the Saracens preferred not to fight the Crusaders unless they had a couple of waggon-loads of the herb on hand.  As well as this, I use it for my “Senile Incontinence” issues, which I don't have so long as I remember to drink that important cup of Golden Rod Tea once a week.  The pioneers used it as an Oregano substitute, because of its spicy taste.  Finally, it's easy to dry and grows everywhere.

All the best from a healing Charlie in the bush.

P.S. Five days later, the red is gone and the swelling's much reduced. C.i.t.b.

AND NOW FOR POETRY CORNER….

LET ME SHOW YOU THE WAY

Footprints in the dust I leave behind me

for those who would come after me to follow.

I do not walk this way to make a path for them,

for there are many other paths that cross my own.

There is a one and only reason why I walk this way

and that's to find the route that best suits me.

Should others choose to follow in my footsteps,

then glad I am that they will go with me,

but when my footsteps start to halt and falter,

then where go they who follow in my shade?

No, walk I my path and they come after,

perhaps to learn themselves to walk alone.

If this is so, 'tis good.  

If not, they'll soon enough discover

that all the world is dark to those