The bizarre coincidental thing is that two years ago, also on a Monday night two weeks in advance of my departure for England, I knocked over a skillet of smoking hot oil in the kitchen and burned my foot very badly. This led to some pretty uncomfortable moments during the trip itself, my "limping around London" trip. It shouldn't be so bad this time. For one thing, unlike with the burn, there is no actual pain when I am sitting still -- only when I am putting on or taking off my shoes, or flexing my toes, or walking. Also I don't have to grow a big patch of new skin, cell by cell, before I can start to feel much better. That's always a plus, I find.
But my fourth toe is a glorious shade of purple, and there is some similar discoloration today in the soft tissues elsewhere in the foot. I won't know until I try whether I can dance tonight at Morris practice, since that will depend on how the weight falls on the feet and how the sneaker fits (I can stand on my toes just fine, I found out through testing). Even with the bad burn I found I could dance, for some reason.
The moral, boys and girls? If your foot did not hurt this morning when you took a shower, or if you were able to put your shoes and socks on without wincing breathlessness, then remember to be grateful.