Sunday 24th February 1808

Dear Diary,
I write today in some discomfort. I am greatly swollen in a manner that would make a person gasp if they were to view it. It is so tender to the touch, an alarming shade of purple and oh, how it throbs! I have only myself to blame for this state that I find myself in. I awoke Saturday morning and discovered it was twice it's general size. Mother had to be seated after viewing it while Fanny wafted her with a napkin. Doctor Proctor was summoned and I swear he winced too, which indicates to me that it is, even, one of the most distended he has seen. Mrs Crutchlow declared the skin, upon it, to look like that on a sausage that had not been pricked! I grew tired of all the gawping and so was helped back to my chamber for a private examination. Doctor Proctor said that he did not believe the toe to be broken and that the swelling would go down in due course. However he said he knew of someone who would be interested to view it. When I asked who, he said, "A foot fetishist.....I mean specialist.....in Manchesterford."
That is how I found myself to Manchesterford yesterday where I was again examined at great length.
I had to lay upon a couch bare footed and cover my face with muslin while the 'specialist' went about his business. I must confess he had gentle hands and spent some time attending to it, though much of the treatment appeared to wiping it with something warm and wet. When I was finally able to remove the muslin he seemed rather flushed, but thanked me for coming.
"Will the swelling subside now?" I asked. He smiled and said, he could already sense that it was.
Today, I have rested and have been brought frequent cold compresses but it appears to me to still be the same size. All this, and still no reply from London!