Wednesday, August 01, 2007

I can't wear cute shoes.

Well, at least for two weeks. That's what the doctor said. Does he not realize it is summer and sandal weather and that wearing the cute shoes probably got me into this predicament in the first place?

Yes, he probably realizes that last part.

"You might want to stop wearing shoes like those." He points to my favorite black sandals gracing my feet.

"These? They aren't even that cute?"

"Yes, those."

"Then what do I wear?" I was fearing the answer to that one.

"I'd wear some good walking shoes with arch supports or a heel cup."

I know the look on my face probably stunned him. I was dressed in my white capris with a nice little black scoop neck tank and a favorite Liz zebra print blouse. The walking shoes wouldn't go.

"Guess that wouldn't go with your outfit, huh?"

I slowly nodded.

"Well, two weeks. Take plenty of anti-inflammatory medication. Baby your feet. And maybe, that heel spur -- or plantar faciwhathoosis -- will be better by then.

Does he not realize that this plantar faciwhathoosis has been hanging around for six weeks or more.

I see the knowing look on his face. Oh yeah, he knows.

"I'll see what I can do," I tell him.

This means a total change of the work wardrobe for a couple of weeks. Total. It's summer! It's sandal weather! My feet do not like to be bound and gagged by big clunky shoes!

Do you think I can get by with my cowboy boots? No. Forget it.

If I were a full-time writer I wouldn't' have this predicament because I could work in my jammies and houseslippers. But then, I'd probably have chronic plantar faciwhathooses because of those flimsy house shoes.

Drat.

I can't wear cute shoes.

maddie

p.s. I suppose it could be worse. My friend's doctor told her she needed to stop wearing underwear. (chafing) Fine and dandy if you are young and buff but when you are sixty...although she says it is quite freeing. Perhaps the walking shoe thing...naw.
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