as I tried to work from home. Annie wondering what’s going on.
Thursday was a rest day. I worked from home for most of the day (went in for a meeting then drove home so Mr. T could go back to work). I think “rest” is not the right word to describe yesterday, though.
The art team was sending me box after box (DVDs — I work for a publishing company) to proof and T Junior, in his sick and tired state, was clingy, moody and snotty. Finally, I just brought his tub of toys from upstairs to add to the toys downstairs in the hopes it would distract him. It sort of did, but it also made more mess for me to clean up. More than I already had planned.
We are having company over for the Super Bowl, so that means: cleaning! I had a goal to finish a whole list of things — laundry, dishes, vacuuming, mopping, toilet-scrubbing, dusting — before Project Runway started. I was almost done when Mr. T reminded me that the Super Bowl is on Sunday and “Why the heck are you cleaning Thursday night?”
I stopped Cloroxing the island counter. “Crap!” Then I gave him a stern warning: “Don’t mess it up. This has got to last till Sunday.”
It’s so nice to have a semi-clean house, I thought as I made my toast and coffee this morning. Then I went to turn on our new fancy flat-screen that we bought last weekend for the Super Bowl game this SUNDAY.
Nothing. No picture. No audio. Ugh.
Luckily, since I already found care for T Junior during my podiatrist appointment, I could now also take the new TV back and get one that works (hopefully). Anyway, first stop: podiatrist.
I was walking through the building hallway to Suite 320 when I heard a woman sobbing…loudly. She was “talking” to someone on her cell phone. She sounded helpless, hopeless. I don’t know what they were discussing, but the heavy, sad sound of her voice broke my heart. I wondered what clinic she’d been in. Certainly not the podiatrist.
Then I was seated in the waiting room, filling out paperwork, when a woman pushed a grubby-looking man in on a shopping-cart-stroller thing for adults. He came up from Urgent Care, and he had one bare foot. The woman found a chair to sit in while the man called someone and told them, “It’s broken.” The woman and the man never talked. My mind was going in circles trying to figure them out. Was she his mom? Girlfriend? (I didn’t want to stare, so I couldn’t really tell how old they were.) Obviously, he got called before I did. I sat a while longer with my Target shopping bag full of shoes.
I brought the Sauconys and my old New Balances with me in case The Pod wanted to see them. Turns out, he did, so Yay me!
Not so “Yay!” though, was the cortisone shot I got in my foot. Ouch!
After explaining my symptoms and letting The Pod prod my feet a little, he told me I had Morton’s Neuroma, a build up of nerve tissue typically under the third and fourth toe (which is exactly where I had the pain before it spread). You can read more about this here.
Running brings it on, of course, but “Since you aren’t going to stop running,” said The Pod, “Then, we can try a cortisone shot and see if that helps.” I went with that option and I also left with a pair of Super Feet.
So…it’s good news! I mean, it’s not great, but it could be worse. He could’ve said: “NO RUNNING.” I’m going to have to deal with this. At least it’s only in one foot. My left, I learned, is pronated. It’s flatter than my right, which explains why I always thought that my left foot was bigger than my right! And, why one shoe fits better than the other. I guess in Pod-land, feet like mine are called “wind-swept.” Nice. I do like the beach.
What this all means is that I’m going to keep running and I am probably going to have to deal with some pain in that foot. Hopefully, the Super Feet will help. I know of at least one other person in bloggy land who has this. Anyone else? What do you do about it?