Thursday, April 27, 2017

My Dancing Shoes

I bought dancing shoes last night. Okay, they’re not—they’re shoes to start me on the road to dancing again, good, serviceable shoes that support my ankles, lessen my tendency to walk on the side of my left foot, and help my feet heal, particularly the swollen left one. They are, forgive me, plain, ugly shoes. Serviceable. That word keeps going through my mind.

They come from a store recommended long ago by the podiatrist I see and known for their serviceable (there’s that word again) shoes. I resisted when the doctor first mentioned, but now I find that tendency to walk on the side of my foot increasing (it’s called pronating). The saleslady, Nita, was skilled, knew what she as talking about. Subie, the friend who drove me there, kept finding cuter shoes, but Nita nixed them—they didn’t offer the right support, they weren’t deep enough for my foot, etc. The ones she showed me were the only ones in the store that she recommended for me at this time, and no, they weren’t the most expensive. Nita held out hope that in six months I can get a cuter pair. She even intimated I might gradually work my way up to sandals.

“You aren’t going to wear these without socks, are you?”

My answer: “Yes.”

She launched into a discussion of how dangerous blisters, etc., are, especially when you have neuropathy and can’t feel them. Dire visions of infection and worse danced in my head.  I succumbed and bought two pairs of diabetic socks (no, I’m not diabetic), which she said would help the swelling because of the way they’re woven. To cheer me she threw in a pair of turquoise laces and a multicolor pair.

Subie meanwhile launched a full pr campaign about how sturdy the shoes are, how much cuter they looked with socks, how much steadier I already was walking while wearing them. All this was good until we were headed home and her car phone rang. It was on speaker, and Subie said “I just took Judy to SAS to get shoes.”

“Oh, sorry,” was the reaction. All Subie’s pr campaign vanished into thin air.

Today going to lunch, Betty laughed heartily and then said how glad she was I’m being so sensible, etc. It was too late.

The best comment came from a young female physician whose birthday we celebrated with happy hour and dinner tonight. “I wear those every day,” she said. “They’re the only thing my feet can stand.”

Another food day: lunch at the relatively new Heim Barbecue, now that the lines have dwindled. I found the chopped beef good, the potato salad and cole slaw outstanding. Still have half a sandwich in the fridge. Then tonight we had happy hour at the Wine Haus (with slices of a decadent mousse cake), followed by dinner at Chadra. Still full from lunch, I had tomato/basil soup and a salad and couldn’t finish either one.

Now I’m toddling off to bed, much work left undone.


Randy Eickhoff said...

Good for you, Judy! Neuropathy was the only bad thing about my appointments Wednesday. The doctor said that the nerve is dead but I had been forewarned about that possibility and had been walking in "special shoes" (a prescription which allowed me to receive two pair free from the VA) for a year. Mine do not cover the ankles but are designed to wrap-around and support the foot itself. (I have high arches.) I love them! They are so much easier to walk with---even though I still have to use a cane and my wonderful walker (another "freebee" from the VA) which allows me to rest now and then!). Yes, I'd say we're two peas in the same pod!

Judy Alter said...

Randy, my doctor says no cane. Too dangerous. I stick to an old-fashioned walker when outside the house--it's like a cage around me.
Just added a picture of my "dancing shoes" to the blog.