Post-injection progress

Well now, since I had the cortisone injection on Wednesday, my foot has behaved rather well.  My fingers are crossed as I say this, but I am cautiously hopeful that the injection hit the right spot.

I rested up for a full day after the injection, but since then I have been walking pain free, feeling more energised and generally going about my day with a renewed vigour.

The consultant asked me to keep a diary of any feeling or sensations I get in my foot, and we will be discussing this at my next appointment.  So far my diary entries show two complete days without pain. Today however, I'll be entering that I have some marginal discomfort which I blame on choosing to wear some sandals last evening. I got a bit complacent you see.  I have lived in training shoes or Fit Flops for six years, not able to wear anything nice either (I mean, who wants to wear a nice dress and spoil the effect with laced up black trainers FGS!!)  and so I figured a couple of hours in some pretty sandals wouldn't cause a problem.  Hmmmm, well, it may well  have done - there's an achy sensation in my foot that definitely wasn't there yesterday.  Still can't call it a pain, but an ache, most certainly.  I won't be doing that again for a while.  I should let my foot settle with the benefits of the injection and continue to wear the clumsy training shoes. As I was tidying my wardrobe yesterday I found my white trainers, so I can wear those now too.  I ditched them as they weren't suitable for work, but as that's no longer an issue I can get some wear out of them too.

My foot's hurting like a b*stard today!

The sodding thing!  I want to screw it off and leave it somewhere out of my sight.  I knew it was going to misbehave this morning as soon as I got out of bed.  I got the grumps as a result, but felt better once the painkillers had kicked in.  I have no idea what's aggravated the pain today - sometimes it doesn't need a reason; it seems to have a mind of it's own.

It would be the day when I want to wear something different for work too. We're have a leaving 'do' for our lovely boss who's moving jobs and we're convening straight after work.  I had  my heart set on wearing a dress, just a simple thing from Next, with my black jacket.  I don't wear dresses very often, but I'm heartily sick of trousers therefore today I just wanted to look a bit different.  I don't have any shoes that are suitable to wear with the dress - all my shoes are trainers.  But, I do have a gorgeous pair of black suede knee boots
like these......

.....it's a good job they are wide enough to take the ankle support.  No one can see it either, so I look as normal as the next person.  Until I start to waddle!

Ministry of Funny Walks, anyone?

Waddling gait
Type: Term
Definitions:
1. rolling gait in which the weight-bearing hip is not stabilized; it bulges outward with each step, while the opposite side of the pelvis drops, resulting in alternating lateral trunk movements; due to gluteus medius muscle weakness, and seen with muscular dystrophies, among other disorders.

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I walk like a penguin.  No kidding - I do!  I seem to roll from side to side, no longer able to walk at a brisk pace.  I lag behind my daughters when we're out, struggling to keep up, and feeling very much the old woman that I'm actually not.  OK, I'm 63 but that's not old in today's terms.  My brain thinks it's still in it's 30's.  Other areas of my anatomy hover psychologically around the 45 mark.  My left foot however, thinks it's 90!

Have you ever watched how other people walk?  Do you consider your own way of walking to be normal?  I used to think I walked normally until about 6 years ago when I became aware of a pain in my left foot.  Now, I've always been quite sensible about my footwear due to being about 5 inches taller than the average woman.  I'm aware that being 5' 10" can be a bit intimidating to some, so killer heels made me look like a control freak.  A Dominatrix according to my gleeful husband, but let's not go there JUST yet! 

So, trainers at weekends, low wedges or lace-ups for work.  A visit to the GP resulted in an appointment with a podiatrist.  "Plantar Fasciitis!" - the podiatrist declared. "Here have some insoles," and handed me two plastic contraptions to put in my shoes.  I persevered with them for months only to find that the pain got worse.  Several return visits to the GP then saw me ricocheting between the podiatrist for different orthotics,  and the physiotherapist for stretching exercises to try and strengthen the muscles.  With determined effort and more perseverance I had the pain to a manageable level.  Maybe I could ditch the trainers and lace ups.  Maybe even try a Zumba class?

Delightedly, I figured it might be time to test myself in a pair of heels.  I had some lovely shoes that were consigned to the back of the wardrobe...... classy black patent courts, kitten heeled sling backs, silver sparkly sandals with crystal butterflies at the ankle, even some cage shoes, but like I wrote earlier - let's not go there JUST yet.  *Grins*.

As it happened, not long after I'd been wondering if I dare try out some 'normal' shoes, a Christmas party opportunity turned up giving me a chance to get dolled up big style!  I'd had a black velvet one-sleeved maxi dress with a long slit up the side that I'd been nurturing for a year or more, so if my foot behaved itself I could wear the sparkly butterfly sandals and my precious dress.  I didn't have a Plan B for this occasion so if the foot was going to be a problem, then sod it, I wasn't bloody well going.

I test drove the sandals.  OK just standing in them wasn't too bad at all.  Spurred on by some cautious confidence, I decided to walk the length of my living room.  That was decidedly trickier.  I felt like a bloke in drag as I tootled along, wincing here and there as little stabs of pain began in my foot.  They subsided after a while and the walking got marginally easier.  I was proper made up at the prospect of not only getting to the party, but going all glammed up as well. 

Cutting a long story short, I really enjoyed the party.  I felt wonderful with my long hair waved and twirled, make up done and dress and sandals comfortable. I met with friends, who passed nice compliments on my dress and glitzy footwear.  But you know how it is with parties, as the evening wears on the room gets warmer and feet begin to swell.  One after the other of us were easing off the tight shoes and consigning them to under the table, me being the first.

Giddily, I left the hotel at the end of the evening with my shoes in my hand as I laughingly made my way in bare feet over the gravel drive to the transport home. Thankfully me and my feet were slightly anaesthetised  by several glasses of wine so where's there's no sense, there's no feeling either!

The following day I soon realised my foot pain had been aggravated by the events of the previous evening.  In fact it took months to settle again during which time my repertoire of swear words increased dramatically, as did my levels of grumpiness.

To be continued :-)