Today was my trip to the Podiatrist. In Wyoming, that doesn’t mean you run into town. Nope, it meant a drive to Casper – a 2 hr. drive. Its still a pretty drive
But no matter how excited I was, Gus was very bored.
When we got to the Dr.’s office, he tested all different areas of my foot for pain. Nope, no, no. And then with a grin on his face he poked the bottom of my heel just right, and “YES, that’s it!!! I saved it for last, he said. Then he said he knew what it was but sent me off for x-rays. The x-rays confirmed it. Plantar Fasciitis and a bone spur.
My sister told me from the start but I just didn’t see the symptoms being the same, but she knew. So she won.
Don’t worry there wasn’t any prize, in fact there wasn’t any contest.
So what does this mean? It means a shot in my heel, which is supposed to be a miracle. We’ll see….., stretches for my feet and calves every night, rolling my foot over a frozen water bottle, and orthotics. PH asked the magic question: “What she really wants to know Doc, is how soon can she run?” He said probably less than 8 weeks. YAY!!
I wish I had taken my camera into the appointment because the Doctor kept me laughing the whole time. Including reminding me that the first man who ever ran a marathon died. Isn’t that enough of a clue? he asked me.
3 weeks and I go back for a check up and pick up my orthotics.
We stopped for dinner, but it was very so-so. She wanted us to dip our dry bread in this:
Sorry but a plate of what looked like urine with a blood spot is far from appetizing.
Then, grilled zucchini which was also so-so.
Oh well, afterward we headed home. We were both very tired.
Jill was SO excited to see us.
Actually it could be terror, I’m not sure.
Have a great day!
On the road to recovery,