things that are wrong with my body: playing footsies

A couple of years ago, I was on my way to Target when I stepped on my left foot sort of funny while skipping merrily down a flight of stairs. I was in a really good mood at the prospect of buying at least $30 of unnecessary crap. I was undeterred. My foot was ok during the drive to the mall. It felt a little hot but no big deal. I was whistling and smiling, saying hello to birds and doing just fine until I got out of my car. I had to limp around Target with a twisting pain emanating up my leg. I felt like my foot had swollen to the size (and weight) of a bowling ball which I had to drag around the store. I still bought a bunch of crap though.

I went to a chiropractor and an orthopedic surgeon. Joints were prodded. X-rays were taken. Both doctors told me that there was really nothing I could do. “Get a good pair of running shoes.” So, I went to SportsMart and bought a $100 pair of Nike Shox running shoes. I wore them every day to work, my very corporate work. I’d point to my shoes…“This is my medicine.” It helped that people saw me limping too. And it was a real limp, not a I’m breaking in these new dress shoes limp. I limped so much and for so long that my opposite knee started to hurt from compensating for my awkward gait. There goes Katie, the girl who walks like a hobby horse.

One day I asked my acupuncturist to throw some needles in and it helped a lot. It took about a year for the pain to subside and my foot to mostly heal. When it finally got to a point where the limping subsided, I stubbed my right baby toe on a picture frame which had been perfectly fine collecting dust in my closet for almost three years but, no, I got too big for my britches and I took it out and leaned it against the wall as a reminder that I should put pictures in it. I didn’t put pictures in it. Instead I walked by it and stubbed my toe so hard that I fell over from the pain. It hurt so bad that I thought I had knocked my toe off my foot completely. Back I went to the orthopedic surgeon who took new x-rays and assured me that my toe was still attached to my body and that a good pair of running shoes was in order. I think the man is being paid off by Foot Locker. I bought a new pair of Shox and put the damn picture frame back in the closet, far away from my toes. Maybe I should have framed the x-rays.

I can’t wear high heels. It hurts to get out of bed for reasons in addition to my general malaise. I hobble around in the morning due to the lingering pain and stiffness. Morning foot, I call it. When people ask me why I’m sitting along the sidelines of the dance floor, music pulsating, bodies swirling around me, I look up at them with doleful eyes and say “I have two effed feet.”