Hello people, I’ve had a wonderful experience to-day – a podiatric pedicure. Yeah, I know I’m only 60
and I was horrified when the doctor mentioned visiting a podiatrist as part of my ‘chronic pain case management’, thinking only old people go to podiatrists. But when the government wants to give money away, one has to use it or lose it. I can have five visits to health professionals under the plan – the initial ones completely free.
This was why I went to the St John of God Hospital in Bendigo a week ago where I saw a physiotherapist. She seemed a bit put out, asking why I wasn’t seeing someone locally and I told her it was because there was a wait of ten weeks. When she said my condition was hardly life-threatening, I could have waited, I explained that the nurse who did the case management interview asked me to go there. So, I was coached through three simple exercises to do daily to help my back and she advised heat packs twice a day whether I had pain or not. She also advised aqua therapy but then agreed the travel right afterwards made it less beneficial. Anyway, she must have warmed to me in the end, because she invited me to see her again if I wanted. I assured her that the ten week jump on the exercises made it worth my while not waiting.
In case you are wondering, my back pain lurks around at the levels 1 or 2 constantly, but as soon as I clean windows, do the laundry or make beds it whips right up to 5-9. Early morning tossing and turning in bed doesn’t help, either, which is why I’ve developed a late night reading habit. At level 9-10, I usually take pain-killers and have a good whinge. Most of the time I can ignore it by distracting myself – which is where family history, blogging and writing comes in handy. 😀 Well, now I know to reach for the hot-water bottle as well.
Anyway, I digress. The Podiatrist. I hadn’t yet made my appointment when the lady rang me yesterday, offering a midday appointment today. I jumped at it, else I was likely to forget.
Somehow my feet now feel naked despite the three pairs of socks. (It was minus 3 this morning and still only 10C, mid-afternoon)
The young pretty podiatrist trimmed my toenails first. I felt better about taking up her time when she said, at one glance from across the room, you have a corn starting there or you have a very strong potential for a corn. Oh? Great. Luckily, there was no corn.
She scraped off callouses. She used a pick beneath my toenails, dragging out dead skin and grot. Gross. Yech! 
Then came the power tool and everything was smoothed over – dead skin was flying everywhere!
She moisturized.
I loved it.
After walking about barefoot most of the warmer months, you can imagine what my heels looked like. I only think to put Sorbolene cream on my feet when the crevices in my heels catch on the sheets.
Before I left, she smiled and said she would see me in a few more years, but if I wanted to come in for a tidy-up I would need a referral and $65. Well worth it. In the meantime, I must find my pumice stone.
Thanks for reading this highlight in my mostly mundane life. 🙂
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