Last week this happened.
The most hideous doctor appointment in the history of doctor appointments where I left with more questions about what was going on with my ankle than I had when I walked in the office. I *think* it’s supposed to be the other way around.
This week I had more doctor appointments lined up. ALL the appointments. 3 to be exact: 2 podiatrists and one with a sports medicine guy at the suggestion of an amazing runner, triathlete, and trainer named Hannah (if you are reading this HI HANNAH!) who knows my story. I ended up canceling both podiatrist appointments and keeping the one with Dr. Sports Med who I saw yesterday morning and – miracle of miracles! – I finally got some answers!
But let me start with the hilarious reaction I got when I recounted the made-for-TV-movie story that was my experience with Dr. Awful. I feel like I sound intoxicated when I try to explain that appointment, especially to people who don’t know me. First, the assistant who took my vitals looked at me like I had three heads and assured me that my experience would be different that day. Then Dr. Sports Med came in and I got a very similar reaction from him. The first thing he did was check my ankle to see if my tendon was indeed dislocating as Dr. Awful had claimed.
Yeah no. Invasive surgery may have been one of the first orders of business with that steroid-pushing psycho, but not here.
Then he gave me a very thorough check up including getting down on the floor and analyzing how I walk. Then, because I refuse to call Dr. Awful’s office back to collect the crappy X-rays he took, I was given another round of them to rule out a stress fracture. Apparently because of my size and the fact that I’m female, I am extra susceptible to those. My bones look good with nary a stress fracture to be seen.
Anyway, SURVEY SAYS:
That’s my diagnosis. He doesn’t even want to waste time with an MRI. He’s almost 100% sure of it and my issues have decreased exponentially already. Randomly placed steroid injections wouldn’t even come up as part of the conversation at all because you don’t treat a tendon issue with steroids. Even I know that. Good to know I’m more qualified to be a podiatrist than Dr. Awful.
My prognosis is good. He knows that I’ve been running on it recently – 20 MILES THIS WEEK SO FAR OMG I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THAT HAPPENED – and the fact that I’m not a swollen, limping trainwreck is a good sign. He thinks I should be able to go ahead with my marathon unless something terrible happens, but let’s just not even talk about that okay?
I also learned some interesting things about my anatomy. I already knew I have exceedingly high arches because I see them all the time, but apparently the bones in my feet are super stiff which is unusual and probably due to the fact that my legs have sucked since birth. This makes me more injury prone which is annoying, but it’s good that I know this now. The next order of business is to start me on a little PT to get me marathon ready and then figure out what they can do for my feet if I want to continue running uninjured. Which obviously I do.
My first appointment is today at lunchtime and I’m a little giddy with excitement over it. I FINALLY HAVE ANSWERS and they aren’t even really terrible ones! After being told I needed surgery, tendonitis seems like a walk in the park.
I floated out of that office on a cloud finally feeling optimistic about everything again. That’s when I checked my phone and my heart plummeted out of my body and all the way to China. A very, very dear friend passed away suddenly yesterday morning. He was like the older brother I never had and I am the person I am today largely due to his influence.
You all know that I try to keep it light on here so I debated talking about it, but then this is my personal internet space and he had such an enormous impact on my life growing up that I couldn’t not mention it. So I just want to say that the world is short one very amazing person now and I will miss him terribly.
Just like so many other runners, it has been a dream of mine to eventually run the Boston marathon. Mike lived in Boston for many years. He considered it home. He loved it so much and I knew that if I ever made it into the marathon, he would be there watching me. Before I wanted to do it for me, but now I want to run Boston for Mike. One day I’m going to get there and I know he will still be there cheering me on in spirit when I do.
I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend full of good friends and family.