I believe it’s time to return my body for a refund. I got my cast off yesterday, and my ankle still hurts. In fact, I think it’s worse than before the cast. So, what exactly is going on? Well, the orthopedist hypothesizes that I have nerve involvement. This means either my nerve is caught in a pain feedback loop, or is entrapped, possibly by my continuing aggravated ankle sprain.
So, not only have I done something horrible to my ankle, but I’ve involved a nerve.
Well, after my MRI on Monday, I resigned myself to a waiting game while the radiologist perused the incomprehensible slices of my foot before distilling them into a written report for my esteemed podiatrist. Today, I ventured once more to my Podiatrist’s office to receive, hopefully, good news. Sadly I, like a horny teenager trapped in an nudist colony composed entirely of ponderously obese men, was destined for frustration and disappointment.
My right foot is a piece of garbage. No, really. Since my teens, every once in a while, through some mysterious transformation enacted, doubtlessly, by clamoring minions of the underworld, becomes an agony generator equaled only by the presence of my Ex. But even I admit that, after years of DDR stomping, years more of wearing Nike Frees to strengthen various muscles, evidence might indicate healing or time or even luck had rendered that particular foot “normal.
