Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the practice
Not a disease was stirring, except for a cactus.
A needle was left outside the office without care,
Without thought that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The patients were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pain-free walking danced in their heads.
My MA in her scrub cap, and I in my suit,
Had just finished modifying an obese patient’s boot.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the room to see what’s the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
But a problem I saw with this little old man.
For he whistled, and shouted, and screamed and began,
“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
Get me some help, I need it now,” he started to squeal.
“For I’ve just stepped on something, and it’s in my heel.”
He was chubby and plump, a right angry old elf,
And I gasped when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had something to dread.
I leapt into action and pulled him inside.
I gathered a full history and physical beside.
“How’s your tetanus status?” I asked right away.
“Less than five years,” he said without dismay.
He signed the consent for foreign body removal.
“I don’t have insurance. I’ll need loan approval.”
“Don’t worry about insurance,” I answered, aware.
“You’re older than sixty five. We’ll bill Medicare!”
I prepped his foot and draped it with care.
In hopes that infection would never be there.
An injection I gave with ten cc’s of Marcaine,
To prevent Santa from having much pain.
I incised his heel with a fresh 15 blade,
And found the needle that was mislaid.
I took it out, and flushed the incision,
And knew the I and D was a good decision.
I stitched it closed since it was less than eight hours.
Dressed it and dispensed a post op shoe of ours.
“Be careful walking,” I said with concern.
“And watch for infection. That might make it burn.”
Santa looked relieved. He was ready for discharge.
He would heal without incident by and large.
We shook hands and made a one week appointment.
He would change his dressing and use antibiotic ointment.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"The podiatrist saved Christmas, and to all a good night!"
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