Hello Sunday!

I really need to get off me bum and get some stuff done. BUT, Mr Grumpytrousers is out for an hour or two and the peace is rather pleasant I have to say.

How shall I use that time? Clean the bathroom (it really does need doing). Nah, stuff that. Hoover the bedroom? Well, that means disturbing the cat so maybe not. Candy Crush then! Nope, gone off that...been stuck on Level 94 for a week and now officially bored.

OK, I think I'll download some music into my 'Feelgood' folder on the laptop. That's always a nice thing to do while no-one's in. I can't get moaned at then.

This is what's going in my folder....

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I wrote the above around 10.30am and its now 2.30pm.  While the music was downloading I decided to go for a walk to the newsagents at the other end of the village.  My lovely follower, author Carole E Wyer hinted that 'someone we know' was on page 27 of this weeks Take a Break. I enjoy reading anything that Carol writes, and can highly recommend her as a good read.  So, incentive enough to get bundled up in my winter jacket, strap up my foot and get my trainers on.  It's still sunny as I write and I have to say my waddle up to the shop was lovely.  Being out in the fresh air, feeling the wind ruffling my hair and whipping hell out of my skin, but all was good.  For a while.

As I set off I almost skipped down my road as the strapping on my foot was holding it nicely in place.  The pain was minimal and I figured I'd make the 1 mile round walk with no bother.  Hmm, how wrong could I be?  I made it to the crossing when I felt my hip starting to hurt.  "It'll go off" I thought as I trundled along past the playing fields.  The sun was behind me at this point and I noticed my shadow.  If I didn't know differently, I'd have said that shadow belonged to someone else.  Some decrepit old biddy who walked like she'd got one leg shorter than the other!  I monitored my walk all the way.  If I stopped for a moment 'to take in the view' (a rest stop if you must know), the pain subsided a little and I could set off pain free and walking almost normally.  However, it took less than 30 seconds for the little fecker to kick in which meant my stops became more frequent as I neared the shop.  I wished for someone to come along who I knew so I could stop (and rest) for a minute or two to say hello and have a quick catch up.  That didn't happen today, so I had to rely on loitering on the edge of the pavement waiting for traffic to pass. 

Strangely in all of this, my foot didn't give me any grief.  It was all hip related.  I shall be explaining all of this to the consultant when I see him on the 21st of this month.  I had an assessment with a sports massage lady at work who suggested that my hip problem may not be in the joint.  She feels it might well be something divinely named Tensor Fasciia Latae (nothing to do with Fascias and Soffits.  And definitely not Starbucks related either).  It's something that runs from the hip down the outside of the thigh and stops by the knee.  It's been impacted by the way I walk which directly stems from my foot.  My gait is so uneven that I feel unable to stride out with my right leg.

Right I've done moaning now.  The grumps are gone.  Husband still not back so a bit more free time for the moment.  Maybe I ought to show the bathroom a cloth and some spray bleach.  Or shall I go wave a duster round the bedroom?  Oh, the cat's still in there though.  I won't disturb her.



 Happy Sunday!!!!!

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 :-)