Thursday, 28 January 2010
Post from MamaTRUE
Because the big toe on my left foot keeps feeling like it’s going to get a stress fracture from all the pressure on it, I went to see a pedorthist today–a professional who specializes in fitting shoes and adding things like arch supports, or figuring out why the outside of your shoes wear more than the insides. Essentially, a pedorthist should be able to look at your feet, the way your shoes fit and the wear on them, and the way you walk and tell you how to feel better, what type of shoes to buy.
The pedorthist I saw today told me what I already knew: my feet are messed up and the pedorthists I’d been seeing in Austin are making them worse not better. Both pieces of news were incredibly discouraging, though neither was a surprise. Add two and a half hours of her watching me walk, putting me in different shoes, adapting my arch supports, and then a bill for $294 for her time, the supports, a file for my callouses, callous cream, and a pair of running shoes I wasn’t even shopping for because I thought the ones I had were okay—and I walked out of the store feeling tired and disheartened.
So my self care today didn’t feel like self-care in the sense that it didn’t feel particularly good as it was happening, or immediately afterwards (or even now eight hours later). However, I know this pedorthist knows her stuff, that when I saw her ten years ago, I walked out in supports that felt funny and made me wobble. My ankle, knee, and hip hurt before they realigned. But my bunions went away. My lower back didn’t hurt. Not for years.
Then I got pregnant and my feet grew and I needed a new kind of support but saw professionals who weren’t nearly as good. The last time I saw the pedorthist in Austin, he said, “Well this isn’t a science. You just tell me what’s comfortable and I’ll put the pad there.”
Excuse me, aren’t you supposed to be the professional? When I show you the red swollen portion of my left foot, the callouses that build from silky smooth pedicured feet to rough Fred Flintstone toes, shouldn’t you be able to pinpoint the pressure, the lack of support, the problem?
He was absolutely supposed to do that but couldn’t manage it so I took time from my vacation to see a professional in another state because my feet are important. They hold me up, help me balance, walk me around. They deserve more than pink toenail polish.
I can’t wear the cute strappy sandals everyone else does and there will never be a Manolo Blahnik in my closet or on my foot. But my feet are pampered more than most, because they have to be. Whether it felt good or not, I know I engaged in some of the most important physical self care I could today.
Do you have a body part or a health issue that just requires more maintenance for you than for others? Do you have the caretakers, professionals, or products you need?