Before I begin (too late, I’ve already started!) I must just say I cannot believe where the last three months between my last post and this new post have gone! Can it really be as far back as the last week of June since I last put fingers to keyboard? I could try to offer some excuses such as summer holidays, the Olympics or loads of lines to learn for my next play, but they would all be weak and feeble and you probably wouldn’t believe me!
So, leaving any pathetic excuses behind, what’s on my mind now?
Regular readers (if you can be regular readers with no new content for three months!) of this blog may recall my post of May 2nd ( The Secret Policeman’s Heel ) where I revealed I had been diagnosed with a foot condition called Plantar Fasciitis. Well, a week either side of my last post (June 27th), I had two appointments with a podiatrist – firstly an assessment of the severity of my condition and secondly to measure my feet for special insoles. The insoles would be tailor made for my feet and would be able to be transferred from one pair of shoes to another (assuming I have more than one pair of shoes).
These insoles would only take two weeks to be made and I would have them before I went on holiday where I planned to do a bit of walking. In the mean time I was to rest my foot to aide its recovery. Unfortunately, like my period of absence from the keyboard, it took three months for my insoles to arrive. Actually, I feel another lame (if you’ll pardon the pun) excuse for not blogging coming on. My foot was so painful, I was unable to walk to my PC to do any writing. You’re not falling for that one either are you?
However, the fact remains, I did not receive my insoles until four days ago. They were ready four weeks ago, but the podiatrist needed to see me to fit them, and the first appointment they had available was four days ago! So, like a patient patient, I waited patiently.
My appointment was at 1.15pm, and being a very punctual person, I headed down to the clinic with enough time to make sure I arrived at least ten minutes early. This would ensure I had plenty of time to book in and therefore not keep the podiatrist waiting. I approached the outer door of the clinic, not really paying much attention, and reached forward for the door handle. I pushed and then pulled but the door wouldn’t open. I spotted a push pad for people who cannot pull open a door. This should automatically open the door, but nothing!
It was then that I noticed a hand written sign on the window advising that the door is locked everyday from 12.30pm – 1.15pm. So much for arriving early! I thought that at least I would be seen fairly promptly as there couldn’t be a delay by earlier patients running late.
Once the door was unlocked, I entered and made my way to the receptionist (who had just unlocked the door) and started to book in.
“Good afternoon” I said, “I have an appointment at 1.15pm”.
“Ah yes, Mr BetterOffer is it?”
“Yes”
Clearly not a very busy afternoon if I am the only appointment expected at this time!
“Please take a seat over there in the waiting area”
I turned round to see about twenty chairs set out in rows. Maybe it was going to be busy after all, and the receptionist just had a lucky guess over my name!
I had barely parked my rear end into one of the seats when a podiatrist entered the waiting room. With a glance at his clipboard he called out the first name on the list.
“Mr BetterOffer”
I was about to jump up out of my seat, however, knowing I was completely alone in that waiting room, I paused for a moment, looked at the podiatrist, then around the room and finally back to the podiatrist. Slowly I raised myself out of the seat and followed the podiatrist to the consulting room, desperately wanting to ask if he was expecting someone else!
Now, I can guarantee, if you have made it this far into this story, you will already have spent, at the very least, three times longer doing so than the time I was with the podiatrist. This so called fitting that they had to carry out personally, that no one else was capable of, was merely to place the insoles into my shoes. Something I could have done four weeks earlier had someone given them to me!
And who knows, if I had been given the insoles at the beginning of September, I may have only been absent from my keyboard for two months. So, clearly the reason I haven’t been blogging for so long is not my fault at all, but that of the podiatrist! 😉
Better Offer? 
January 9, 2013 at 3:59 am
Did the insoles work? I’d love to just walk again. No foot problem until 10/12 and then – wham. Rest for entire weeks at a time but to no avail. Stretching, the rest. Did the insole work? Here in the rural USA it takes a while to get a podiatrist too. A good one at least. whatever that means.
January 9, 2013 at 3:54 pm
Difficult to say whether the insole has worked, as I am still suffering, but my podiatrist did say it could take a year to clear.