The heel truth and nothing but the heel

For the past two weeks my Achilles heel has been exactly that – my heel.  Literally and laterally. Somehow it got hurt one Tuesday afternoon on my afternoon jog home from work.  Maybe I blundered unseeingly over a small stone lying in the road like a Smart Car attempting a Land Rover impression.  I soldiered on in the vain hope that it may get better overnight.  Walking or stopping was even worse because then my mutinous heel spent more time in contact with the ground, informing my brain of it’s position in no uncertain terms.

Metool2Wish I had heels on wheels like this….

For the first ten days I had no choice but to get the doctor’s script for ibuprofen.  This put me in a semi comatose state of drowsiness during which my usually sharp mind missed a lot more than it registered. Luckily I’ve dispensed with the last of that dreadful drug and am using something with codeine in, which I can manage with equilibrium.

We have a running club called Achilles in our fair city, which is an anagram of hill aces, but at the moment my own Achilles heel is making my left foot feel over the hill and down the other side as well.

My left side especially my foot and ankle have generally been out of sync.  My right side is the same as when I was a carefree ten years old while my left side makes me feel sixty plus.  My left ribcage is complaining about my poor posture throughout life, reminding me that it’s payback time for all refusing to walk all my life long with my shoulders permanently shrugged and my chest out like a Phoenix rising from the last ashes of a New Year bonfire.

I just have to be patient and wait this out until my bursa feels that I’ve reimbursed it enough and that it’s revenge is complete.  Since I can’t physically walk without hobbling awkwardly along like a robot in a 1950s B-grade movie, running isn’t even an option for the next few weeks or so.

I wish I could have my left foot removed and placed in cryology.  However, unity is strength and without the sometimes dubious leadership of my head, my foot is nothing.  Therefore, it has no choice but to accept my mind’s authority!

Fortunately there a host of other special interests to keep my mind active, so my recalcitrant heel can recover.

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Published by: envirozentinel63

Diagnosed with asperger syndrome. Keen runner and writer who wants to share the ups and downs of all my many experiences and maybe reach out to someone who needs encouragement.

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