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Archive for September 19th, 2011

Dear Right Foot,

We’ve been together a long time. Twenty-nine years to be exact. You’ve carried me, quite literally, through good times and bad. But lately, and for the last year, you’ve been a royal pain in my ass foot. At first, I thought you were just fighting back after years of mistreatment. Fourteen-hour days in cheap shoes back when I worked retail and at the movie theater in high school; about 20-30 extra lbs, particularly in college; long nights in stilettos; quick but intense workouts with zero stretching beforehand… Needless to say, I’ve been the abusive one in this relationship and I knew it would only be a matter of time before you started to let it show. So late last year, when the running and the heels became too much to handle, I stopped. I stopped running. I stopped wearing heels. I stopped everything. I assumed it was a stress fracture and so I eased up on you to give you the proper amount of time to heal. I sacrificed my health and gained nearly 10 lbs so I could give you time. I sacrificed fashion in favor of comfort, FOR YOU! And yet, 9 months later I sat in a podiatrist’s office for x-rays and MRIs so I could figure out what was bothering you since you still refused to talk to me. It was the podiatrist that finally had to tell me that we had arthritis, and some strange bone swelling going on, most likely caused by stress. I had no idea you were that stressed! Why did you let it get so bad before letting me know? Now we’ve got arthritis and we’re going to battle it for the rest of our life together! ARTHRITIS! Isn’t that an old-person’s condition? We’re only 29!

The doc suggested we take even more stress off of you by wearing a boot. So wear the boot I did. For TEN WEEKS. In a boot. In the middle of summer. But it was too late. The swelling wasn’t going away on its own so I had to call in the big guns – the kind that shoot cortisone to be specific. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be, but it’s not something I’d prefer to spend my afternoons doing. The doc said it would be a few days, maybe even a week or two before we would feel the full effects. Within 3 days we were feeling better, but heels were still an issue. In fact all shoes were still an issue except for one pair of black, peep-toe flats. My safe shoes. The only ones that don’t hurt. I didn’t want to rush you so over the weekend I bought some kitten heel shoes in your favorite color – RED! Super sassy and super cute. I even got them in black too, but when we got home, something tragic happened. You had a major head-on collision with the door, which felt like it ripped the nail off of my big toe. Instead, the nail is fully intact, but it’s black and blue and the slightest touch is excruciatingly painful. Now even the “safe” black flats hurt. So the new shoes will have to wait even longer.

I’m sorry. I’m not really sure what to do with you now or where we go from here. I had hoped things would finally be back to normal for our trip to NYC this weekend but it seems as if we’ll be taking it easy still and admiring other people’s cute shoes from afar.  It’s unfortunate, and I know our most recent setback is totally my fault, but if you could at least TRY to be cooperative this weekend, I’ll pay you back with bi-weekly pedicures and daily lotion applications all winter long. I’ll even stop buying cheap shoes and we can check out that Good Feet store I’ve been hearing about. Scouts honor.

Now just please get better already. You really are my favorite appendage.

Love,

The rest of me

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