Sore losers
My feet hurt.
I spent huminahumina number of years in really good health, which makes the fact that my body has gone downhill quicker than the last time I slid/fell/partially skiied a black diamond run in Park City really alarming. I should never have been on a black diamond run in the first place but that's another story. I was lucky - it was only a stretched tendon, not like the guy in the emergency room next to me screaming at the top of his lungs while the nurses cut off his ski boots because he'd hit a tree knee first.
Since Sweetpea arrived she has had only one cold but that was enough to set off a chain reaction that drained my immune system down to the last white blood cell. Of course I wasn't taking very good care of myself (who knew?) so no vitamins or extra boosters for this gal - no I had to learn the hard way. I came down with her cold (of course) and every opportunistic infection thereafter, including cold sores, sinus infection, and a rattly, hacking cough that I finally had to dose with antibiotics. For a while there, I was checking the Medline database daily for prescription drug interactions.
My feet were first to go - they started hurting right around the time our daughter came home from a playgroup with a suspicious dribble from her nose. The dribble soon turned into a snotty, blobby river which, if you are a parent, you know you can't wipe all the time because the skin on her upper lip would soon turn into an angry red rash that would spread to her cheeks, chin, and then.....okay, so I have to put up with a little snot for the greater good.
Back to my feet: they hurt like the dickens when I got out of bed one morning and then just stayed hurt. Pain in the heel, fallen arches, I didn't know what was going on. But since my feet had never hurt before I did what every sensible adult does, I ignored it. Bad idea. The pain got worse as Sweetpea's nose continued to gush, and because she was feeling crappy she wanted to be picked up more and the feet didn't like it so.....eventually I was hobbling around wincing with every step.
It got so bad I became obsessed with finding 'good shoes'. My mother at 78, bless her heart, still refuses to wear anything resembling a comfortable or sensible shoe (she says they are for old ladies which I assume must mean older than she will ever be). So she sqeezes into anything else she can find cheaply and in size 10 at the last-year's-fashion discount chain store, which she bicycles to while holding the dog on a leash, but that's another story. She's a fashion maven on a ten-year delay: Remember those clear plastic shoes called "Jellies"? She has a pair of those (worn with nylons) and an assortment of other odd footwear that either make your feet sweat or cram your toes into the pointy end of a triangle. Arch support or padding? Forget about it. I get very frustrated with her stubborness to give in to sensibility so about a week into the foot pain thing something clicks in my brain (you're turning into your mother) and I limped as as fast as I could to a store that specialized in comfortable shoes.
I was like an addict needing a fix. I stared at the dazzling array of merchandise for the sore tootsie in their shop window before moving onto the shelves where I started pulling samples in a frenzy. The man helping me was very nice....and he saw an easy mark: a woman primed to have a near-orgasmic experience in footwear. Yes, near-orgasmic, because when your feet hurt with every blessed step and you put that first pair of Merrell slip-ons with the custom arch support inserts, the pleasurable joy of walking around and around the shop in squishy, lovely comfort radiating upwards into your whole body is transporting. It is one of those moments when you realize there is more to life than sex.
I left the comfortable shoe store with a pair of high-tech split air-stream all terrain runners, a pair of Merrell mesh slip-ons, arch support inserts, and a pair of gorgeous red, boiled-wool wrapped clogs from Germany that are intuitively constructed to cushion and support my feet in measurable comfort. They really are beautiful. And elegant. I wore them to the theatre that night and kept staring at them in wonder.
Of course, my judgement may be somewhat impared given that I'm deeply in love with them right now. It could just be a crush....
I spent huminahumina number of years in really good health, which makes the fact that my body has gone downhill quicker than the last time I slid/fell/partially skiied a black diamond run in Park City really alarming. I should never have been on a black diamond run in the first place but that's another story. I was lucky - it was only a stretched tendon, not like the guy in the emergency room next to me screaming at the top of his lungs while the nurses cut off his ski boots because he'd hit a tree knee first.
Since Sweetpea arrived she has had only one cold but that was enough to set off a chain reaction that drained my immune system down to the last white blood cell. Of course I wasn't taking very good care of myself (who knew?) so no vitamins or extra boosters for this gal - no I had to learn the hard way. I came down with her cold (of course) and every opportunistic infection thereafter, including cold sores, sinus infection, and a rattly, hacking cough that I finally had to dose with antibiotics. For a while there, I was checking the Medline database daily for prescription drug interactions.
My feet were first to go - they started hurting right around the time our daughter came home from a playgroup with a suspicious dribble from her nose. The dribble soon turned into a snotty, blobby river which, if you are a parent, you know you can't wipe all the time because the skin on her upper lip would soon turn into an angry red rash that would spread to her cheeks, chin, and then.....okay, so I have to put up with a little snot for the greater good.
Back to my feet: they hurt like the dickens when I got out of bed one morning and then just stayed hurt. Pain in the heel, fallen arches, I didn't know what was going on. But since my feet had never hurt before I did what every sensible adult does, I ignored it. Bad idea. The pain got worse as Sweetpea's nose continued to gush, and because she was feeling crappy she wanted to be picked up more and the feet didn't like it so.....eventually I was hobbling around wincing with every step.
It got so bad I became obsessed with finding 'good shoes'. My mother at 78, bless her heart, still refuses to wear anything resembling a comfortable or sensible shoe (she says they are for old ladies which I assume must mean older than she will ever be). So she sqeezes into anything else she can find cheaply and in size 10 at the last-year's-fashion discount chain store, which she bicycles to while holding the dog on a leash, but that's another story. She's a fashion maven on a ten-year delay: Remember those clear plastic shoes called "Jellies"? She has a pair of those (worn with nylons) and an assortment of other odd footwear that either make your feet sweat or cram your toes into the pointy end of a triangle. Arch support or padding? Forget about it. I get very frustrated with her stubborness to give in to sensibility so about a week into the foot pain thing something clicks in my brain (you're turning into your mother) and I limped as as fast as I could to a store that specialized in comfortable shoes.
I was like an addict needing a fix. I stared at the dazzling array of merchandise for the sore tootsie in their shop window before moving onto the shelves where I started pulling samples in a frenzy. The man helping me was very nice....and he saw an easy mark: a woman primed to have a near-orgasmic experience in footwear. Yes, near-orgasmic, because when your feet hurt with every blessed step and you put that first pair of Merrell slip-ons with the custom arch support inserts, the pleasurable joy of walking around and around the shop in squishy, lovely comfort radiating upwards into your whole body is transporting. It is one of those moments when you realize there is more to life than sex.
I left the comfortable shoe store with a pair of high-tech split air-stream all terrain runners, a pair of Merrell mesh slip-ons, arch support inserts, and a pair of gorgeous red, boiled-wool wrapped clogs from Germany that are intuitively constructed to cushion and support my feet in measurable comfort. They really are beautiful. And elegant. I wore them to the theatre that night and kept staring at them in wonder.
Of course, my judgement may be somewhat impared given that I'm deeply in love with them right now. It could just be a crush....
posted by vallie at 10:06 AM
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