Wednesday last week, I bought the shoes my podiatrist had recommended to me. At $229, they were more than any pair of shoes I’d ever bought but Dr Aaron had said they’d help with the painful arches and allow me to return to my evening walks without pain. Okay, made sense.
But within a day, I could feel my back starting to get twitchy. I figured it must be because my spone had gotten out of whack with bad shoes and bad posture, and these $229 wonder-shoes were fixing all that up.
Last Monday though, I hit a wall. I got to work, and could barely walk. I needed to support myself on desks and chairs to walk from one side of the office to another, so I was sent home. It got worse while driving. I went past my doctor’s office, hoping I might be able to pull up outside, and call him to come and give me drugs or treatment or something down in the street. But there was an hour before Dr Charlie was due to start for the day. I kept going, kept trying to get home. I failed though. Hit a wall – fortunately only a metaphorical one – near Denison Street, and pulled up at the ambulance station there. One of the trainers in the office came out, and chatted to me and radioed for an ambulance. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t move.
Paramedics arrived and as usual, they were the most professional and friendly people in the world. I was given a whistle – a green plastic thing about 4 inches long. After breathing through it for 4 or 5 breaths, I felt no pain, my head was spinning and, as it was described to me “it’s like downing a bottle of whiskey, but it tastes like red fruit tingles, and wears off 10 minutes after you stop breathing through it”. These things would be worth a fortune on the black market, I’m sure.
I was taken to the Mater, given more drugs, spoke to a doctor, and as the drugs took effect, was fine enough to go home. Naturally though, as soon as I left, the pain was returning. So Jen took me home, and on the way, bought me some painkillers.
Later, I got more painkillers, and that’s pretty much the story of my week – painkillers, friends waiting on me, and me struggling to do much more than get out of bed long enough to go to the bathroom.
Today, I have managed to spend most of the day out of bed. I’m not sure if it’s the Valium, Panadiene Forte, and Nurofen, or whether I am actually getting better. But now it’s down to a manageable ache. No longer completely crippling.
Rhiannon hit the nail on the head though when she texted me through the week.
“What are you doing about it?” she asked
“I’m resting and taking lots and lots of really strong drugs”
“What about longer term?”
That’s the question – what happens longer term?
Ironically, this latest crippling – coming only 13 months after the previous one – was a direct result of strategies triggered by the last one. I wanted to get more active, but that required sorting out the sore arches problem. That led to the podiatrist, and the new shoes. And now, to a week in bed.
She’s right though. Things must change in Banana-world