The Doctor is in—–sane

Yesterday, was Mother’s Day. Naturally, I saw this as a perfect opportunity to relax. When I was done relaxing after a few minutes, I did what any non-relaxer would do… I took to the internet to diagnose my aches and pains. Fantastic idea.

Paging Dr. Klier-Weidner! Get off of the internet, stat!

I figured since I played a radiologist once, (not on TV), I could figure out my own health issues at 10 Megabits per second!

I deduced, with all of my medical schooling, my aching foot was Plantar Fasciitis. I mean, I’m 50 years old, I danced hard for so many years. Of course it was Plantar Fasciitis! Doesn’t everyone, once they turn 50, suddenly find themselves saying words like, rotator cuff and Plantar Fasciitis?

With all of this pillow talk, it’s hard to believe I’m still single, right? Single AAAAND now, a Doctah!

Let me back up.

Last week, I injured my back as any unrealistic, accomplished overachiever would. Naturally,  it seemed feasible that I could easily pick up a reluctant, 75 pound dog into my SUV.

While my back still isn’t 100%, I am on the upswing. I mean, clearly I was healthy enough to sit at my desk yesterday, as I diagnosed my foot problem. So, I figured that once I had confirmation of Plantar Fasciitis, I’d move on to my rotator cuff. Good plan.

After two minutes of studying Plantar Fasciitis, it didn’t sound like what’d been happening with my foot after all. In the meantime, my exhaustive research subliminally made me hungry for Planter’s Mixed Nuts, so off to the kitchen I hobbled. As I moved slowly down the stairs with my devastating foot injury, I started thinking about the “Fasci” in “Fasciitis.”  Then, I started to think about fascist regimes, so I decided that I’d interrupt my medical rounds with some research on the history of fascist regimes in democratic countries.

My ideas just kept getting better and better.

I returned to my desk with the nuts in hand and mouth and dove into fascism. Still, I never forgot to remind myself about my painful foot injury. So, I did a Google search of, “Foot problems of ex-dancers who are much heavier now, due to the fact that they finally started eating.”

More nuts please…

That was a terrible search. I tried another one:

“Foot problems of former dancers…”

AHA!

MORTON’S METATARSALGIA

Holy cow. That was it! YIPPEE! I achieved brilliant self-diagnosis. “MORTON’S METATARSALGIA,” also known as “MORTON’S NEUROMA.” This explained exactly what was wrong. I mean, Morton is my Dad’s name AND I’m neurotic which sounds a lot like neuroma, so if the shoe fit and hurt, it had to be spot on.

I’d gotten off on the right foot with my internet medical career, so I turned to my rotator cuff trauma. Sometimes, when I move, it cracks and gets out of place until I crack it back to where I think it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t really give me pain, but the cracking kind of annoys me. This didn’t happen when I was 25 years old with 9% body fat.

Google told me (with an attitude, I might add), that my rotator cuff was normal with a little wear and tear due to aging. Meh. What does Google know?

When I was diagnosed in 2013 with Melanoma, my brilliant surgeon gave me great advice… She said with booming conviction, “STAY OFF OF THE INTERNET!”

She was right and I followed her advice throughout the whole cancer thing.  In fact, I never do cancer research on the internet, just other injuries like “MORTON KLIER-ITIS” or whatever its called.

When I reviewed what to do in order to heal my devastating foot injury, I started to wonder if the walk I’d taken during the previous week, from Greenwich Village to Wall Street, in heels, with all of my luggage, might have impacted my foot – Perhaps my inability to get a cab in New York City affected the health of my foot?

As I took one more handful of nuts, I decided to take my nuts, and both of my feet (which were sporting some fashionable heels), and get the hell away from my medical internet research. I proceeded to go outside to enjoy the sunshine and reminded myself that it was Mother’s Day and even if I don’t typically relax well, I could go outside and think about how well I do at not relaxing.

This shift made me far less nuts as I ate my nuts. As I prayed with my feet, I forgot they were hurting.

Today, my MORTON KLIER-NEUROMAITISIS appears to have vanished!

I’ve decided to leave the medical profession and stick with remembering to change my environment when I’ve been on the internet for too long.

This is just what the doctor ordered.

Speaking of which….

gotta go.

 

 

 

Author: PKW

Writer, Speaker, Facilitator, Trainer, Fundraiser, Strategist, Listener, and Lover of Humans. My love for humans and relationship building are a part of every single thing I do, except for maybe using the bathroom.

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