The past couple of days, I have noticed an old familiar twinge in my left heel. At first, I ignored it. When that failed to magically cause the pain to abate, I talked myself into believing that it is a bruise, and that applying ice to it would ease the throbbing. When that failed to work, I firmly set my mind on the fact that I must have pulled an unimportant muscle-one that will heal quickly and effortlessly-and I reminded myself not to put weight on it whenever possible, you know, to speed the healing.
I don't suppose I have to tell you that that didn't work, either.
I don't want to say the dreaded word, but, at this point, I don't think I have a choice: I have plantar fasciitis, again.
I have absolutely zero desire to dig the orthotics out of the closet, nor do I plan to subject myself to cortisone shots, again. I will lay off the exercise a bit, I will do my stretches before getting out of bed every day, and I will wear sensible shoes until I feel some relief, but that is the extent of my efforts this time. No expensive doctors for this girl.
But, seriously, foot, really? Again?
You bastard.
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