Remember this letter? The one in which I blasted my left foot for cursing me with the worst heel pain ever.
If you recall, I ended my letter asking that my right foot heed my warning and not pull any similar stunts. That tactic worked. For more then a year I had my right foot cowering in fear.
Until a few days ago, when I started to feel that familiar pain as I first stepped out of bed putting weight on my right foot. Pain that emits the kind of screams from me that only dogs can hear.
Oh woe is me!
On the bright side though since this condition is not unfamiliar to me I guess I know how to cure what ails me. Instead of revisiting the pervy doctor that caressed my ankle and slid off my sandal (rather then asking me to take my own sandal off) and talked to my cleavage the whole time - I'll simply freeze water in a coke bottle and roll it around on my heel, I'll do the exercises, I'll wear the splint and sport tennis shoes whenever possible (Oh if only my body understood what it's doing to a shoe fanatic like me).
On second thought,since we all know it's better to look good then to feel good just send me painkillers. Lots of them. The kind that'll make me feel gur-ooovy.
Yep and maybe some liquor too...
Or maybe, just maybe this is my body's way of telling me I've worked hard enough in my 35 years and that I need to plant my arse in a chair somewhere, relax my feet while 22 year old hard-bodied cabana boys fan me and feed me grapes.
Of course it is, I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out. I'm headed in to go talk to my boss now.