Feet - my weakness. They are narrow, long and flat. Women's size 12 AAAA shoes are generally not available in fun places like the mall. No, nor trendy boutique shoe shops. It's Zappos, Nordstroms, Amazon or special order for me. I got my flat feet from my father and the narrow bits from my mother. The length was just a bonus, I guess. Though my 5'4" mother wore a size 9 shoe. I used to kid my mother, "Just think of how tall you would be if you didn't have all that tucked up under you". My sons are so lucky to have inherited their father's arches and normal feet, size 12 and size 13. My mother insisted on buying good shoes for me even when we could not afford it. "Take care of your feet" was her slogan. I have always taken good care of my feet - always bought quality well-fitting shoes; aka ugly shoes.
Despite the care they have received, my feet have given me trouble for years. I've been in the Austin area for four months so I guess it is time to find a podiatrist. It's like a board game. Roll the dice and advance your tiny green plastic shoe token on the board. Oh, too bad, you landed on "The doctor is not taking new patients". Roll the dice again and advance to "Dr. Stinky Feet only sees diabetics" - not me. I am like Diogenes, in Athens, looking for an honest man. I think that he was really looking for an honest podiatrist. I have seen 6 or 8 podiatrists in the last 6 years. All but three of them have been charlatans wanting to sell me some $400 orthotics for my shoes, sell me diabetic shoe inserts even though I am not diabetic or try to "fix" my feet using surgery. I have two sets of orthotics that don't work with my diabetic shoe inserts so my surgically altered feet hurt all-the-time.
My last podiatrist was great but he works in San Diego and that doesn't help me now that I live in Austin. So I went looking for a new podiatrist. I found a podiatrist on Monday. It was Martin Luther King Jr holiday so I had to drag my grand kids with me to the appointment. I would pay for their good behavior with a trip to McDonald's after the appointment. It was a small crowded office with a small waiting room with lots of doors and only the doc and her receptionist/nurse working. Hmm. This was the "getting to know you" visit where the doctor asks lots of questions but doesn't do anything but wants me to come back in two weeks. So my feet still hurt.
It wasn't until we got to McDonald's that my grands told me that they could hear everything I said in the doctor's exam room. So much for privacy.
Charlatan or no, I'll keep you posted.
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