On my hike down memory lane, I stumbled across this gem……….


To house sit for my sister and her game warden husband, was an excellent escape for Laura and me, and one we enjoyed. On one occasion, we were looking after their house at Albert Falls, in Kwa-Zulu Natal.

We had free range of the nature reserve and could come and go as we pleased.
Unfortunately, spoiling my fun, was a condition known as’ Plantar Fasciitis,’ which was very ouch and debilitating.

Because the pain in my foot was so excruciating, if I put the slightest pressure on it, I was virtually crippled and could not walk but had to get around on crutches. We finally decided I should see a doctor. To me, drugs do the trick. I am not a Zen sort of person, who’ Om’s’ their problems away. No sitting cross-legged on the floor, communing with the universe for me.

No. Give me medication. Give me pain-killers. And give them to me now.

The doctor recognised the condition in my foot immediately. She made me climb on the examination table and lie face down. Then very gently pressed my heel, working her way around it until she reached’ the spot.’ The place on my heel, which, when touched, was the most painful.

” Is this where it hurts most?” she asked.

I nodded, then she suddenly, and viciously, rammed her thumb down on it so hard, I howled with the pain.

” Yup. Yup. You got it there.”

I said, sweat running down my face and mingling with my tears of agony.

” That’s the spot.”

“OK,” she said, not moving her thumb, as she reached for a syringe the size of a small cannon, .filled with cortisone.

” Now, this might hurt a little…” she said, then suddenly, and viciously, rammed the king-size needle straight into the’ sweet’ spot,’ so to speak.

Are you kidding me???!


Hurt a LITTLE?

I shot through every level of pain imaginable to man, and some unimaginable.

It hurt a lot, nothing ‘little’ about it…

I hated that woman and climbed off the table, planning her immediate demise.

That night though, I slept well, with no pain, just sweet, sweet sleep. The next day I awoke and stood up, planting both feet flat on the floor. It felt great. There was no red-hot nail piercing my flesh. I could walk. Life had returned to normal.

I was so happy. I had been virtually crippled for months, hopping around on crutches, crawling on the floor because it was easier than having to climb up to crutches. As well as battling to get into tight spaces, like toilets. Now I was free. I was walking on air.

Laura was sitting on the steps, enjoying the sun while I flitted to and fro, singing and dusting, and even breaking out a few dance steps.

” Mom, come on, come sit down,” she begged,” you’re tiring me out just watching you.”

” Oh, OK,” I said,” I just want to feed the birds.”

Grabbing the bag of mixed birdseed, I skipped outside, ready to feed the flock. I stepped off the verandah, right into a hole.
Splat. Snap. Ow.

In an instant, I lost my footing and my happiness.

My ankle twisted awkwardly, and pain of a completely new nature and even more intensity introduced itself.

” HOWZIT?” it greeted me, shooting arrows of agony through my body.

I sat down abruptly and definitely, avoiding eye contact with Laura.

” Ow, ouch,” I yelped, I couldn’t help myself, it was so sore.

Laura was not amused.

” I told you to sit down,” she said, with a’ We are not amused” expression on her face. I saw my new found mobility vanish, along with any sympathy from my darling daughter.

So, frustratingly, it was a case of’ Hullo crutches, my old friends… I’ve come to walk with you again’.

Once again, I was left wishing that just this time, I would have listened to my darling daughter.

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