Out of the Pan…

I’ve had a pain in my heel for the last month or so and like a real man, I’ve not gone to the doctor for it. The theory went something like this – I probably hurt it during ski season at some point. I took about a month after the season to see if it would heal with rest.

It didn’t.

Amy and I started walking 2 miles a day.

It hurt even worse.

I finally caved and went to the doctor today.

He asked me some questions and decided it was plantar fasciitis. Treatment would be ice, stretching, and a cortisone shot.

As he brings out this honkin needle, I tell him my mother-in-law has that and it doesn’t feel anything like that. My arch is fine it only hurts in one spot.

So the doctor relooks at my foot and says “Hmmmm.”

I don’t like it when doctors say that.

He puts away the shot and gets…a razor blade.

“I think you may have a buried wart so I’m going to have to scrape off some skin to find it.”

He pauses.

“This is going to hurt a little bit.”

So he scrapes. And there’s quite a bit of blood. And he finds the wart.

Then he puts some goo on my foot to stop the bleeding.

Then he put an acid on the wart that would burn and kill it.

Then he told me that we’d have to do it again in two weeks.

And it didn’t hurt a little. It hurt a lot.

So…I avoided one shot for all of that.