Falling Apart from the Ankles Down
This is gonna be about feet. Mine, specifically. So if feet squick you out, maybe don't read on.
I thought I finally had all of my issues resolved as far as the feet. I wear my old-lady inserts faithfully. I have been wearing the "old" ones more often because the "new" ones are slow to break in and currently are only comfortable in about three pairs of my shoes, but I nearly always have SOMETHING in my shoes. I don't wear high heels. I probably could wear better walking shoes for my commute, but overall, I follow the rules and I've been pretty pain-free for about the last year as a result.
And then I noticed that my big toe joints are starting to look funny. As in, I'm pretty sure I'm starting to grow bunions. AAAAACK.
They don't hurt or anything. Yet. But my whiny superficial vain ass is thinking, "OH NOOOO, I CANNOT HAVE UGLY FEET. NO NO NO."
Because that's what's important here, yes?
So I asked my doctor for a referral to a podiatrist, because I figured maybe I could nip these suckers in the bud, and possibly have my mutant toenail fixed also. (My left big toe. It grows cracked. Pedicurists are constantly mystified by it.) But he's all, "I want you to see a foot and ankle specialist." The fact that I have seen two already, both of whom are among the best in the city, did not sway this opinion.
So, next week I'll be getting a fifteenth opinion on why my feet defy the odds and have the issues of an obese elderly woman who spent her life in stiletto heels. Should be awesome.
I thought I finally had all of my issues resolved as far as the feet. I wear my old-lady inserts faithfully. I have been wearing the "old" ones more often because the "new" ones are slow to break in and currently are only comfortable in about three pairs of my shoes, but I nearly always have SOMETHING in my shoes. I don't wear high heels. I probably could wear better walking shoes for my commute, but overall, I follow the rules and I've been pretty pain-free for about the last year as a result.
And then I noticed that my big toe joints are starting to look funny. As in, I'm pretty sure I'm starting to grow bunions. AAAAACK.
They don't hurt or anything. Yet. But my whiny superficial vain ass is thinking, "OH NOOOO, I CANNOT HAVE UGLY FEET. NO NO NO."
Because that's what's important here, yes?
So I asked my doctor for a referral to a podiatrist, because I figured maybe I could nip these suckers in the bud, and possibly have my mutant toenail fixed also. (My left big toe. It grows cracked. Pedicurists are constantly mystified by it.) But he's all, "I want you to see a foot and ankle specialist." The fact that I have seen two already, both of whom are among the best in the city, did not sway this opinion.
So, next week I'll be getting a fifteenth opinion on why my feet defy the odds and have the issues of an obese elderly woman who spent her life in stiletto heels. Should be awesome.