I
finally made an appointment to see a podiatrist next week (Dr. McCann in Concord), and all I can say is
the poor man probably will take one look at my feet and call the Guinness Book.
I’m pretty sure my feet have just about every ailment he learned about in
medical school…and maybe a few he didn’t.
First
of all, I was born with flat feet. My bare footprint in the sand looks just
like a brick with toes – no shape whatsoever.
Because
of my super-flat feet, combined with the fact my right foot always was
determined to point inward, I had to wear orthopedic shoes during my first few
years of school. They were really ugly lace-up shoes that came in only two
colors – red or brown. So while all of my friends were wearing their dainty
patent-leather Mary Janes, I was clomping around in my big brown shoes, looking
like Herman Munster’s daughter.
My
mother thought ballet lessons might help my feet, so she enrolled me in classes
when I was only three. I enjoyed ballet, but as I got older, I wanted to try
toe dancing, or dancing “en pointe,” as it was called.
It
didn’t take long for me to realize the human body wasn’t built to walk on the
tips of its toes – especially when that body is packing more weight than
average on the bottom half. After a year of toe dancing, my toes resembled
pretzels, all bumpy and twisted. I also developed bunions so large, they looked
as if I were trying to smuggle golf balls under the skin on my feet. And the
bunions caused my big toes to cross over the tops of the toes next to them.
So
not only did I have flat feet, I had lumpy ones with twisted toes.
But
my problems didn’t end there. When I was 16, I decided to take judo classes at
the YMCA. The key to being a success in
judo class was learning how to fall correctly so you wouldn’t get hurt when the
person you were partnered with threw you. Unfortunately, I never really
mastered the art of falling, which, according to the instructor, was to land on
the flat portion of your arm between the wrist and elbow.
Well,
I landed on just about every body part but my arm. My favorites seemed to be my
butt or my back. During class one
night, my partner threw me over his shoulder and I landed hard on the
floor…with all of my weight on my big toe. I think people out on Elm Street
heard it crack.
Needless
to say, I flunked out of judo class. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, I
had to go to the emergency room while I still was wearing my judo outfit and
had a bone sticking out of my big toe. I also had to have surgery, which
resulted in the toe becoming even more crooked…and scarred.
Buying
shoes always has been a problem for me because if the heels are too high, they
force my feet to have arches they don’t have and cause my shins to hurt. And if
the shoes are too narrow, they hurt my bunions and squish my crooked toes. Open-toed
shoes or sandals are out of the question because I don’t want to expose even a
smidgen of my feet’s hideousness to the public. Just the sight of them might
frighten small children.
So
my solution has been to buy men’s shoes. They are wider and roomier across the
toes and sturdier than women’s shoes. My favorites are Asics Gel Runners. They
are comfortable and solid and are great for long walks. Mine are silver with
red laces. The only problem is, I don’t think Gel Runners, especially the men’s
styles, were designed to look sexy with fancy dresses.
Despite
my weird feet, I love to walk, and have taken a 45-minute walk nearly every day
for the past 40 years.
Not
wanting my long walks to take their toll on my already ailing feet, however, I
went to a podiatrist back in the late 1970s. He took molds of my feet and sent
them off to a lab to have professional orthotics made for me. They cost over
$300, which was the equivalent of a down payment on a car back then, and were
made of rock-hard red plastic. At first, they felt about as comfortable as
trying to walk in Cinderella’s glass slippers. But they gave me the arches and
support I’d never had before, so I faithfully wore them until I finally got
used to them.
And
I’m still wearing those same orthotics every day. They have so many battle
scars on them, they look as if they’ve been run over by a fleet of lawnmowers.
So I’ve decided the time finally has come to invest in a new pair. I realize I’m about 30 years overdue, but I
wanted to make absolutely certain I got every penny’s worth out of these
orthotics before I bought some new ones.
And that’s why I’m going to see Dr. McCann, the podiatrist, next week. I’m going to clomp in there
with my crooked toes, flat feet, bunions, scars, and gnarly looking toenails
and throw myself at his mercy.
I’m
thinking he’ll take one look at my feet and grab a camera so he can capture
their uniqueness for posterity. Then he’ll whip out the photos when he’s having
coffee with his other podiatrist buddies and say, “Wait till you get a load of
what walked into my office the other day! You have to see it to believe it!”
On
the bright side, with the summer months approaching, my friends will be
spending a lot of money on pedicures so their feet will look attractive in
their cute little sandals and flip-flops when they go to the beach. I, however,
won’t have to spend a thing.
Nope.
I’ll be the one wearing socks and lace-up shoes with my swimsuit.
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