Poor Steve came home from work on Friday with a sore leg, and things escalated from there. We drove up to the cabin that night, where frequently he would start hitting his leg and screaming. It was like he had turrets, and reminded me of a scene out of What about Bob. By the end of the night he could not sit down, lay down, sleep or any such thing. His pain would go from severe pain to complete numbness.
On one of our drives at the cabin, he could not figure out why the car would not move. Turns out he was pushing the brakes not the gas peddle. For the safety of our family, I drove from that point.
He has been seeing a chiropractor this week, and will for some time, until insurance tells us no more. Turns out Steve has a herniated disk.
Then there is me. It hurts to walk. I bought expensive custom made medical orthotics a year and a half ago, yet me feet still hurt. BAD.
I made an appointment with my podiatrist. The x-ray showed that my plantar fascia was beyond swollen. I had one goal when I walked into his office this morning: Not to get a cortisone shot. Guess what? I walked out the door with a cortisone shot in my foot. AND...I need to go back in two weeks for another shot. Son of a nutcracker!
The doctor told me I was only allowed to wear supportive athletic shoes from now on. What? No way, I love shoes. So I asked him what I could wear on the dressier side... he showed me this shoe.
I am pretty sure Steve's mom has a shoe just like this. And she is in her 80's. See, I am going from 34 to 84 in a blink of an eye! As for Steve--I already knew he was old. ;-)
