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posted by [personal profile] captainsblog at 08:21pm on 16/06/2017
We switched cars again today. Also, in a way, feet.

I should explain.

Our doctor is in the adjacent county, beyond the electric Smart car's comfortable round-trip range. So when Eleanor goes, she takes mine.  Today's appointment was early (7:45) and necessary; for months now, she's come home from work as often as not with excruciating pain in her left foot. Its origins come within her twenty-odd-year career in Buffalo retail, many of those early years forcing her into 7-hour days on concrete floors in heels.  Wegmans allows, even encourages, her use of sneakers, but it's still a load-bearing burden.  So today it was diagnosed as a bone spur, confirmed by x-ray, and with the prognosis involving surgery.  We think we know by who; where and when are, as the Mets tenuous rotation is, TBD.

I was more-or-less asleep when she actually left sometime before 7, but I had plenty of insomnia before that- much of it coming from one of my own feet. Not the left, Daniel Day-Lewis as that would've been, but some lovely shooting pain all over my right foot and particularly in the vicinity of the big toe.  We've seen this movie, repeatedly if intermittently over my same twenty-odd-year career in Buffalo. I was diagnosed with gout in my early 30s, and it flares up, unexpectedly but suddenly, every few years, usually in the spring and summer months, judging from posts I can find.  This could be that, and I'm treating it as such; with a bottle of anti-inflammatories dispensed in 2013, with several liters of dihydrogen monoxide to flush shit out, and with trying to restrict alcohol intake (the only trigger I can think of which has been above normal in recent days).  It's better now than it was when I woke up. Past experience has been that this course of treatment beats it down for good after a day or two.

Yet it's also occurred to me that there are psychosomatic things which go on. When Eleanor was pregnant, I'm pretty sure I presented at least some sympathetic-pregnancy symptoms.  I doubt I'll need surgery, but I'm certainly more empathetic about her pain than I was a day ago.

----

I left early today for a mental-health hour or two (a day being out of the question).  Next week promises to be killa; I now have commitments every day of the week, three days of them in Rochester, and few of them being easy or peasy.  We'll see how well these feets get us moving through it all.



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