I’ve been to the foot doctor more times than I can count this year. So many times that I’ve learned to stop being hopeful for good news. (It’s sad, but true.)
On May 20, I let my guard down and cheerfully drove to the podiatrist while listening to my running play list.
I even tweeted about it while stopped in traffic: “Listening to my running playlist on way to doctor. (It’s lovingly called run Forrest run). Hopeful for good news!”
Well, that (er… this) blog post took a backseat to my doctor’s appointment that day. I kind of forgot about the play list, because I wasn’t getting better. My doctor wrote me a “disability note” that said “no running” until July 1. It broke my heart.
That day the good ol’ doc gave me my second sclerosing injection, an alcohol-medicine mixture. Alcohol is toxic to the nerves, so the injections work by gradually poisoning and killing the neuroma. Patients are typically given anywhere from one to seven shots, spaced a week to 10 days apart.
While the earlier shots eased my pain a touch, it still radiated through my foot and second toe every time my foot struck the ground. So back to the doctor I went…
On Thursday, the good ol’ doc brought out a tool that’s manufactured in Japan that beeps when it’s on the nerve. That’s right, folks. My doctor essentially brought out a stud finder. Where the beep was good and steady, he marked the spot and stuck the needle in (after using a local anesthetic, of course!).
Well, he found the nerve. It was sore that night. And it was sore and sensitive during the day on Friday.
But by Friday night, I was hobbling around again. My foot started to swell on the top AND the bottom. It started getting red. I slept with it propped up and wrapped in ice… but on Saturday it had gotten so much worse, that I phoned the doctor’s office.
My doctor reassured me that my reaction was normal for how directly we hit the nerve, and that while it was painful — it was probably a good indication that we’re indeed killing that pesky nerve bastard. Since I didn’t have a fever or any other reaction, he said I should just wait for the reaction to fade.
It remained swollen on Monday, albeit less so. By Monday night, I noticed that I wasn’t really noticing the pain anymore.
‘Please don’t stop the music!’
So now I’m hopeful again. I recalled that Twitter chat between @cubicledad and me, and I decided to let you all in on my embarrassing play list, “Run Forrest Run.”
It’s got some Gaga, some Miley and some Big Willie style.
Check it out on blip.fm. I don’t even care how ridiculous you think it is (actually, even better — one up me! Tell me about your embarrassing play list songs!). I’m just so excited to soon be listening to it while pounding the pavement one day in the near (I hope!) future.